The Titan Master
by Icee E. Rockslabs
Summary: Set shortly after Moon Base One and Two were lost, a strange signal prompts a small group of Decepticons to investigate its source to discover an ancient secret. Old friends, Rodimus, Arcee, and Kup, are joined by a newcomer, Leinad. If your a fan of G1, then this will be an adventure that should tickle your nostalgia while giving a new twist based on the Generations series.
1. Chapter 1

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Blue sand clouds blew over Outpost 9. Grains of soft sand pebbled his hands. There was little to see outside, other than the horizon line which finely cut the orange sky from the blue sand. Muttering to himself, he shut the bay doors to keep the dust out. The cobalt sandstorms were blowing three times a day now. Sooner or later they would be blown over, or worse, the sand would find its way into their tubes and one day he and the five others would just simply stop functioning, victims not of the planet, but of being forgotten.

Once the bay doors were secure, he sat in his side of the bunker, popping open another metal crate and another canister. He popped his canister of energon and refueled. The crate held several tools including the filament-ended brushes which he was supposed to use every day to keep the dust out of his joints. He hadn't used any on his body for 3 cycles. He had stopped wasting time delicately lubricating his body. He had realized the truth before the others. The crates and canisters were going to empty in five hecacycles, and who knows if Charr Command would send a shipment to restock. Who cares about securing Outpost 9, anyway? He'll just let himself rust then. It didn't matter. He had found a better use for the filament brushes. They were great at cleaning the buildup of gunk and dust in his pistol's bullet chambers. His own body may get sloppy, but his arms never would. The one who makes that mistake, would find himself dead.

Kreb found him hunched over the crate. "Phew! You take care of that pistol more than yourself, Horri-Bull." He waved his hand in front of his olfactory sensor to brush the stench away.

Horri-Bull didn't bother to turn around and pretended not hear him. He snorted black, noxious clouds.

"Ahem," Kreb said, kicking the crate. "If ya don't want to use the showers, it's fine," he tossed Horri-Bull a breath mint. "But it's your turn to scrub the GI shower. On top of that, you left a grease trail all over the entertainment deck. I can't even watch Sultry Sisters without getting a slick back."

Horri-Bull cast a weary glare at Kreb. He scoffed and blew more black smoke.

Their four teammates inside the base, Brisko and Fangry, Lokos and Squeezeplay, along with Slugfest, sat listening to eighties rock on Slugfest's transceiver. Brisko lazily slapped the drinking bird toy on the console to get it to do its dunk routine again. Simple Mind's "Forget about Me," buzzed to a halt when a blipping sound was heard coming from Slugfest.

"It's a transmission!" Slugfest shouted.

Squeezeplay looked at the small green stegosaurus-shaped Decepticon. "A what?"

"A transmission!" Slugfest padded his paws on the cold floor giddily.

"Bah. The only thing that comes out of you is an e-mission."

"Grrr. You making fun of me?" The little stegosaurus frowned as frightening as his cute reptilian features allowed him to. He reared up as though he were about to pounce.

"Alls I'm sayin' is the last time the whole place stank worse than Horri-Bull's chassis nodules."

Slugfest growled. "Just listen to it!"

The electric hall lights flipped on. Horri-Bull swaggered into the room, slipping his pistol to his side like a revolver into its holster. He grumbled. Soundwave should've loaned him one of the more reliable cassettes. He lifted the wobbly lizard onto the console, plugging him into the monitor.

It had been years since Megatron or any of the high rank officers had checked on them. And these Decepticon warriors were running low on energon, filaments and fuses, but more so on patience with the Decepticon cause.

Brisko analyzed the signal, spinning his pen. "It's a Nebulon distress signal. It comes from the Bowie system." He pointed to display map and set his digit on a planet named Magnon.

A journey to investigate the disturbance would burn fuel, but to find Nebulon tech could prove useful. Even possibly giving them power enough to rise higher in the ranks.

Lokos rubbed his duranium chin. He recognized the Nebulon message. "Could be lots of loot. Could be friendly. Don't know yet. Signal's getting warped."

Horri-Bull prodded Slugfest. "Can't you do some-thing 'bout that?"

Slugfest unplugged from the monitor. "This isn't my fault! Stop accusing me!" The lizard charged at Horri-Bull, headbutting his shin. "Terri-ble Tan-trum," is what Horri-Bull called it and he kicked the lizard aside. The three small Decepticons frowned at Horri-Bull. He took notice of their displeasure. "What are you child-ren look-ing at?" He looked from the green cassette, to the little Nebulons. He snorted a dark cloud. "Whelps."

Brisko hissed. "I can't decode the rest of the transmission… because the tantrum destroyed the information."

"No matter," Fangry said. "We'll go to the planet. Prepare the ship."

Kreb nodded. It would be good to get everyone out of here, before they wrecked the base with their squabbling. He wished he could have seen what went missing from the transmission. He couldn't have guessed, but if he had managed to read the remainder, it could have saved many lives.

The three left Outpost 9 to investigate. The three Decepticons had few allies to aid them. They were unpopular among their own kind, which is difficult when you're a Decepticon. Frankly, Horri-Bull was unpopular among his two partners. He would find their soap bars in his energon canisters. Their transformations gave them bodies designed better for fighting fauna on alien worlds just like the Horrorcons or Weirdwolf's team. In a physical fight, they could gain an advantage against bipedal robot forms easily. It was the only reason they hadn't been discarded years ago, but because they lacked the invaluable firepower of, say, Tidalwave, or the reconnaissance of Scourge, they were seen as unwanted.

Lokos was particularly unnerved by Horri-Bull. He had been known among his kind as a valuable plunderer. He had joined the Outpost 9 team because it seemed gainful at the time. He had made bots weep while they begged him for their lives. The words Horri-Bull used to describe him had not left. They circled over his memory components like a hungry buzzard. Both a whelp and a child.

A red planet descended behind a titanium moon. It leered like a hovering eye, the silvery-metallic moon, its eyelid. It was impossible to see the features of the planet's surface which were obscured by crimson clouds. On their graphs, a blinking green dot appeared beyond some topographic canyons. There were no haling signals—no safety frequencies or attempts at communication—only the droning beep of the green dot, the source of the transmission. They punched its atmosphere, with the clouds rattling the hull of their starship. Through the goldenrod and emerald gasses, planet Magnon revealed several features beyond the haze. There lay a small city with roads creeping like roots over vermillion canyons.

They descended on a landing field set on a shelf of sedimentary stone near the outskirts of the city.

When they left the perimeter of their landing platform, they came upon a startling sight. Slain transformers were strewn about the city streets. They found a ruin of villages. Gunfire smolder marks scorched energon rigs. A crater at the military base had the telltale signs of atomization.

Fangry stared into the empty sockets of the bodies. As a soldier, he was not squeamish when it came to dead bodies. He had seen plenty in his lifetime. The remains of many Cybertronians had fallen prey to his fire-arm… or his fangs. These corpses, however, unnerved him. A decapitated head had been tossed out on the dirt path like a broken boulder, a marker for the entrance to the town. The head's open jaws were locked in an expression of agony. The hollow black recesses where the optics should be made Fangry's circuits run cold.

A huge attack had come to Magnon. But what was it? And were there any survivors? The signal, they soon discovered, came from a research facility antenna which had been locked in a transmission cycle for every twenty-five Earth orbits. The original transmission had broadcast twenty thousand years ago.

"Strange," Brisko said, viewing the data scripts.

Fangry wrinkled his snout. Brisko never got used to that. Fangry was like a burn victim, charred but would lash out at the slightest registry of pain. "The entries were encrypted in gigatron code."

Fangry growled. It meant Brisko needed to explain before Fangry lost his temper and would start tearing at things. "Gigatron code is an encryption language used by Nebulons."

Brisko, Kreb and Lokos received strange stares from the three larger, hulking, Decepticons.

"Can you translate it?" Squeezeplay asked. His itchy claws rattled.

"It will take some time," Brisko said. "Could take hours."

This didn't sit well with the larger bots. It sounded suspicious. Squeezeplay waved a claw. "Forget it. Just take the data. We'll sort it out later. Meantime, look for survivors."

Horri-Bull took Kreb with him. Kreb had gotten quiet now. It made Horri-Bull sweat crude oil. He knew what to take his ease off. He shot a rusted hanging sign with a bolt from his pistol. The sign collapsed and shattered, making Horri-Bull chortle. Horri-Bull wished he had been stranded with Slugslinger and Triggerhappy instead. He didn't trust Kreb. Kreb was too smart for his own good.

The sign had been hanging off what looked like an old energon diner. Kreb gulped. Was Horri-Bull trying to intimidate him? There must have been some energy left at the diner. A circuit still functioned. The collapse of the sign turned on a series of glowing screens inside.

"How about it? Still feeling tough?" Kreb asked Horri-Bull. The larger Decepticon snorted. He pushed aside the broken door and held his blaster close. On the ground were footprints—some sort of space rats… but no bot traces. Horri-Bull sniffed. His nose knew. The stench of greasy joint oil was coming from below the floorboards. Horri-Bull punched the floor, ripping it from the ground. A set of stairs had hidden under the diner. Horri-Bull lead the way and Kreb kept a safe distance behind him.

At the bottom of the stairs was an iron door. Horri-Bull transformed. He became the powerful beast that Kreb hid from. Horri-Bull pawed his split hooves on the ground and charged both horns against the iron door. It buckled under his weight, slamming aside.

Kreb choked back a frightened cry. Behind the door was an immense dusty cavern. A giant robotic hand was held outstretched; the palm was the size of a space ship. Horri-Bull whistled from excitement. Kreb analyzed the limb. The arm belonged to a massive Cybertronian, one on the same scale as the planet eater, he thought.

The hand had been hollowed out, a cavity was visible in the palm running up the wrist, creating a cavern within a cavern. Horri-Bull and Kreb peered inside.

Kreb stayed close to Horri-Bull. "Eh, not to sound like a joykill, but perhaps it'd be better to get the others before checking it out. Better them than us, am I right?" He chuckled nervously.

Horri-Bull grunted. "We'll be all-right." He grabbed Kreb and set him down on the fingers. Compared to Kreb who was so small, the large hand could have held a million Krebs and easily have closed its grip. Kreb wondered if the life-spark was completely extinguished inside the giant.

The cavern wound up to the arm joint and traveled into the chest. A found series of semi-responding lamps flickering on and off when they detected their presence. The system was designed to illuminate their path as they traversed the innards of the Cybertronian, though the broken pipes—the fractured gears—indicated the giant had perished years ago. Rusted carbon build-up and bleached vapor residue had built up a patina on the delicate arterial tubing. They had just passed what would be the neck of the giant, when they felt the splintering prick of frost.

Temperatures had suddenly dropped in the surroundings and a vault lay ahead, sealed with a turning valve. Horri-Bull wasted no time to turn the wheel, which broke off, rusted in his hand. He pulled the massive door aside and the metal screeched from loosening. He pried it open just enough to let the two of them through. The room was chilled, at below 18 Celsius. Horri-Bull moved his horned head side to side. A life support machine, a gurney of monitors and wires, was plugged into the wall. In the center of the room was a container, like a tube, a restoration module. Someone or something lay inside.

The two looked at one another. Horri-Bull wiped the frost accumulated on the glass window away. Inside the tube, lay a prostrate figure.

"The readout is still active. He's alive," Kreb said. He brushed the ice aside to stare at the face under the glass. "Though he'd look more at home in a supermarket freezer."

"Then let's wake them up." Horri-Bull said.

"We don't know if they're damaged."

"We'll know soon e-nough." Horri-Bull ripped the plug from the wall. An emergency light flickered on the panel of the module, then the soft click of the window door unlocked. The frozen carbon dioxide gas vapor escaped from the cracked open tube. A small body lay on the slab. It was a purple Cybertronian, the size of Kreb. The height of Horri-Bull's shin. It was a Nebulon.

"Friend of yours?" Horri-Bull asked.

Kreb paused, his optics analyzed the body of the comatose robot. An awful long time was spent examining. Horri-Bull shuffled, it felt eerie.

"You, my fish-stick friend, are preserved well. Functions, adequate. Neuro wave-states are… in deep stasis."

The two shared a look until Kreb got anxious and gestured they should get the body out. And in his mind he envisioned the icy capsule as a stolen relic, it was the heart of the giant whose interiors would collapse if he were to draw breath.

It was by fortune that they made it back to their comrades without some superstitious malady. Fangry and Squeezeplay were surprised when the two returned with a body dangling under Horri-Bull's left arm. Just like Ricky Ricardo on Earth's broadcasted entertainment network, they'd have a lot of explaining to do.


	2. Chapter 2

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Iacon's towers gleamed for the first time in millennia. The liberated city's windows hummed with new wiring. A lone red car whizzed down the highway. A few months ago, the only bots allowed on these roads had been Decepticons. Rodimus recognized the highway. He had loved Vector freeway. Even though Cybertron had no sunset, the horizon perpetually gleamed with neon violet. Before the Decepticons had taken over, it had been his favorite drag race strip. Blurr had been fond of it too. It had broken him when the Autobots had been kicked out. Now, as he veered across Iacon's backdrop, he felt he should feel victorious, the road was like an old friend, he should feel ecstatic. This was a free road now… but it felt as empty as the derelict tower he raced from.

He missed the way he picked up Earth frequencies on his short wave and played their synthesized tunes on their concrete freeways during the twilight hours. Cybertron never had a twilight, it was always dark. It had no large star to illuminate it, and in the big empty sky, there lacked the glow of a natural moon. Strange how much he had gotten used to the view on Earth even though he had lived for so long on Cybertron. Why did the sky seem so empty and why was the silent buzz on his short-wave so alarming?

"Where's Hot Rod?" a small Cybertronian asked. Arcee set down her fusion capsules. Rewiring Iacon would take years; a half hour wouldn't make much difference. She walked across the broken apricot-orange pipes. Vector tunnel had to be clear enough for something as large as Omega Supreme to pass through. It wasn't a job befitting a warrior, however, Arcee had learned long ago that being an Autobot meant you were often a warrior and a repair man, a courier and a—

"He said he'd come, didn't he?"

"Yes. Of course," Arcee said. Leinad had never seen Rodimus in person. She still called him Hot Rod. That was his old name. That name felt less fitting now… She looked at Leinad. The rescued robot was so curious, she had wanted to see the new leader as soon as she reached Iacon. Her glowing blue optics dimmed with boredom. She sighed.

"Arcee… there aren't too many girl Cybertronians, are there?"

Arcee sat right next to Leinad. "No. There aren't."

This was the second piece of depressing news Arcee had given her, Cybertron wasn't going to be easy for Leinad. The small Nebulon looked down, pausing for a moment. She then looked at Arcee. "Are there many like me?"

Her legs were non-functional. Her delicate construction required parts that were unavailable. It was impossible to tell if she would be immobile all her life. Then Arcee realized Leinad wasn't talking about her legs. She wasn't talking about girl Cybertronians either. She placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Come. I think we should head back to A-4."

Arcee transformed and placed Leinad in her passenger's seat. She rolled up the ramp and headed to the base.

Once there, she placed Leinad in the ion chamber. Leinad had nearly exhausted her reserves, but she never once complained about it. She wasn't a bad one, Arcee thought. She then went to wait outside in the hallway. Who should be waiting there, but a familiar, tall, and red- orange friend. Rodimus.

He winked at her from the distance. When they closed the gap, he gave her an Earth hug. Arcee felt stiff. She lacked a certain warmness.

"Everything alright?"

"I wish you had arrived sooner." Her cranial lights flickered.

"Hm?"

Arcee placed her hands on her hips. "For Leinad. Did you forget?"

Rodimus looked at the floor.

"I know you're the commander and all but…"

"About Leinad." Rodimus's voice became stern. "Arcee, I've learned a great deal about what she is—why we can't repair her."

That was news to Arcee. She had been bothering Perceptor for answers. She softened her stance.

"She's a Titan Master."

Arcee was stunned; reflexively, she pulled away from Rodimus. "What does that mean?"

Rodimus' shoulders sagged. "I don't know."

She knew he was hiding something. He had been having his conversations with Ultra Magnus, but those normally ended hours ago. Why had Rodimus taken so long to get back to A-4?

When Rodimus did not say anything further, she looked over her shoulder at the holding bay where Leinad slept even though the door had closed. Then, without saying another word to Rodimus, she left the hall to the service tunnel.

"Hey, short stuff."

Arcee startled. Around the corner of the tunnel, waiting for the main line, was the tall, green, triple-changer, Springer.

"Not skimping out on recon meetings, are you?" she asked.

Springer cocked his head. "Know any private ones I should know about?"

"I know some that aren't boring." She smirked.

When the train arrived, Springer held the train's door open for her.

Rodimus watched the whole interaction. In the past, he would have said something to try and get Arcee's attention, something to impress her. Now he just watched his friends at a distance, watching their lives walk right past him. What was keeping him back?

It had been Wheeljack's old hangar that the former meeting had taken place. Rodimus had sat next to Magnus and Perceptor. Cerebros, Kup and Chromedome were also there. Highbrow had begun the meeting by dimming the lights and turning on ultra-red detectors. The sudden glare had irritated Kup's eyes. "What are ya tryin' to do, blind me?"

"Sorry," Highbrow said. "Don't want Laserbeak or any other Decepticon to listen in on this."

"Well, what's it all about, Lad?" Kup said. "You got me all riled up."

"Quite frankly, we're dealing with a crisis of identity. And it's reaching a break point."

"Not so many fancy words," Chromedome said.

"I'm talking about the miniature transformers," Highbrow said, "The refugees from Nebulos." Highbrow's waist swivels whined as he sat down.

The others looked among each other.

Highbrow's voice sounded cautionary. He clasped his hands together in front of his mouth. "They're a huge potential threat."

"Now, wait a minute," Kup said. "You oughtta be careful with what you say, some are my friends. I can't imagine a guy like Recoil as anyone who would do us harm."

"I'm sorry to say, you don't have to use your imagination. They've stayed silent to keep their secret."

"I'm afraid it's worse than that… oh sorry, Highbrow… I didn't mean to interrupt."

Highbrow smiled, clearly annoyed. "It's alright, Perceptor. Why don't you explain a little."

The red and black Autobot microscope, Perceptor looked around to make sure he wasn't being a bother. He stood and cleared his vocalizer. "In exchange for occupying a part of their foster planet, individual Titan Masters were offered as sort of gifts. Their bodies held powerful sparks, evolved to be as enticing to planet populations as possible. Once planet bound, the colonies would begin a process, the end result… the goal being to reproduce, harvest energy and integrate themselves with the natives."

The doubtful speculative optics around the room clued in he had lost the room.

Perceptor continued. "They were once crew on living spaceships, traveling from planet to planet in a sort of colonization diaspora. Their main mode of interplanetary communication was to send a herald first to a planet, discover the threat potential of the inhabitants, then, if deemed hospitable, land their vessel and establish a colony. These Titan Masters—"

Highbrow attempted to rescue the debriefing. "I know it sounds weird, but these were symbiotic relationships. Non-hostile forms of reproduction."

"Now I see what you mean about a potential threat," Cerebros said. "I'd imagine the harm the poor Titan Masters might receive if word got around about their powerful sparks."

Rodimus was not so sure about their innocent nature. "Are there any records of hostile invasions by the Titan Masters?"

Silence echoed back.

Chromedome hated it. "How do we know all this, anyway?"

"It's been observed…" Highbrow said, "in a Titan you all know already."

The others looked among one another quietly.

Perceptor displayed a readout onscreen of a city. It displayed a portion of Autobot City on Earth—the portion of the city called Metroplex.

Rodimus tapped his chin, thinking.

Cerebros's optics lit up. "Do you mean the Titan spoke to you?"

Highbrow shook his head. "We observed the lights in his neural circuitry. His thoughts are being displayed and read through an interpreter. It's similar to flashes in dreams."

Kup bit at the end of his pipe, grinding it in his teeth. He clearly had little tolerance for dreams, visions.

"The Titan," Highbrow said, "has been showing signs of higher consciousness in the last several months. Almost as if he is beginning to wake."

Rodimus let go of his chin. Metroplex was on earth. His thoughts lingered on that, so that the remaining images on screen, the arguments of his closest advisors and allies, became like his blue friend, a Blurr.

Rodimus had a few scant microminutes after the debriefing. It was a meeting he couldn't afford to miss, and yet, he needed to speak to someone. Spike wasn't wearing his exo-suit when he found him. He preferred him this way. He enjoyed seeing his human friend more human-like in appearance. Something about the exo-suit gave him that uncanny-valley vibe.

"Rodimus? What brings you here?" Spike lifted his welding mask and laid down his torch. Omega Supreme's launch pad was taking a while to repair.

Spike had a contagious smile. "Just wanted to see an old friend?"

This time, Rodimus didn't return the smile.

"Everything alright?"

Rodimus stared at him.

Spike grinned. "Is this about Daniel and me leaving for Earth?"

"You're taking your whole family, aren't you?"

Spike raised an eyebrow. Rodimus had learned that humans communicate mostly through the muscular contractions on their face plates. Even though it's a sign of agreement and joy, humans don't always display their true feelings. Spike's expression was interpreted as, "That's the plan."

Rodimus had difficulty getting his words out. He cleared his vocalizer. "I'd been thinking about your invitation. This is important for you. I should go to Earth to pay my respects."

Spike was a bit surprised. Rodimus had caught him offguard. "Um… I appreciate it, Hot Ro… I mean Rodimus.

"It's okay."

"But you're needed here on Cybertron."

"You've done so much for the Autobots, Spike. You and your father. I wish I could do more."

"Well… if that's the way you feel about it, then sure, you can come with us. Might be crammed inside Omega, though."

"Shame about the Space Bridge."

"Yeah. Things don't always work when you want them to."

The two shared a look. "Well…" Spike said, "I'll make sure they'll call out for the commander the Autobots or something like that before we shuffle off."

Rodimus chuckled. "Yeah… Yes." What was more important though? Attending the funeral of Spike's father or consulting the Titan which could reveal critical information. Prime had spoken to the Titan before. What was that like? What was it like to talk to a being nearly as old as the universe?


	3. Chapter 3

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The starship rocketed from Magnon back to Outpost 9, passing a rogue, green nebulae on the port side. Lokos considered nebulae something in space abhorrent, somewhere between solid and gaseous, unable to commit to one identity. To quell boredom on their return, Lokos and Horri-Bull played on the holo-table. Lokos thwarted each of Horri-Bulls attacks with strategic efficiency. When the klaxon blared, it startled Lokos. "What is it?" Horri-Bull asked.

Fangry growled. "There's an energy signal headed the direction where we just came from."

Squeezeplay approached, turning on the aft view. There was a tiny Junk craft scuttling towards Magnon. "They're on the same trajectory as the emergency signal we discovered. They're looking for the same source we were."

Lokos shook his head. "We should stay concealed. Who knows what sort of firepower they have."

Fangry scanned the ship, and his optics brightened with what he saw. "I don't believe it…" His lips curled into a cruel smile. "Boys… this is our lucky day. You won't believe who's onboard that ship."

Squeezeplay and Horri-Bull looked. The scan showed three Cybertronian passengers they recognized immediately. It was the signal their own bodies emitted. It was the signal of their former comrades, the Autobot betrayers. Squeezeplay and Horri-Bull nodded. Now they must go.

"Too dangerous," Lokos said. "We should avoid them."

Fangry shot Lokos a glare. This was unlike Lokos. Lokos loved raiding stray ships and taking their loot. What was going on with him?

"We're low on supplies," Fangry said, trying to keep his hands from trembling. "We're going after that ship." He got up and left the console.

Lokos tried to get in his path "But…"

Fangry nearly tripped over him. This was perplexing. He could have easily kicked Lokos out of his way. Fangry felt like swiping him now. The small bots were getting weird. He had spied them secretly together in the sick bay, hovering over that purple bot's body on the medical table. What were they hiding?

Lokos, Kreb and Brisko huddled near each other. It was clear they felt suspect. But what could they say now? Lokos scrambled through possible excuses. That they would burn out their fuel? If they lost the battle, they might get stranded? That the opponents might overwhelm and kill them? None of these would be good excuses. The one thing he couldn't say was about losing their precious cargo, but now, that much was obvious. Fangry toed around the Nebulons, going to the armory.

He chucked the rifles at the small bots, then nodded at Squeezeplay. He gripped the controls and piloted the ship towards the Junk craft.

Fired warning shots detonated off starboard side of the spaceship. The cruiser slowed down to half speed. Seeing their foes slowing down, the Decepticons latched an industrial raiding claw onto their target, immobilizing it. Then, before any other surprises, the Decepticons cut into the doors of the starship, searing the edges with their torches—they burst right through, making a surprise entrance with all the smoke, debris and bluster they were known for.

They had cleared into a large hallway of the ship. It was near derelict condition, grease and smoke filling the innards; Horri-Bull loved it. This was a war-zone to wade through, and he'd emerge covered in slobbering grease from the charred corpses of anyone that bothered to cross his path. If only the Phase-Sixers could look on him now. Would they smile and nod? An industrial elevator was chugging its way down. They raised their blasters ready.

Horri-Bull and the others transformed into their robot modes. This would be a firefight. The little bots couldn't transform, but they could wield weapons. What good were the Nebulons, anyway? Horri-Bull loved his terrifying alt-mode. The destruction caused by this greasy bovine form was invaluable in a hand to hand fight, where horns beat out hands every time. Kreb was small, Kreb had no other mode. If his blaster were knocked out of his hands, he couldn't do much else.

There was a shrill cry overhead. The six Decepticons raised their pistols to the roof. Three figures leapt from the roof of the service elevator, dropping to land on them. The Decepticons leapt out of the way, and debris launched everywhere. Squeezeplay doubled over to shield Lokos, then turned to face their attackers. The three enemies were Cybertronians. They were hideous, they were monstrous, they were brutes like them. Squeezeplay recognized them instantly.

An insectoid robot bore its fangs, Repugnus. To his right, a two-headed dragon smiled fiendishly, Doublecross. And the third, on the left, a cobbled-together creature. The hindquarters of a reptile, the wings of a bat, and the front parts and head of a saber-toothed tiger, Grotusque. Squeezeplay couldn't believe it. As he leapt out of the way with Lokos under his arm, escaping the fire breath, the three enemies blasted at them. Squeezeplay hid behind a raised collection of oily brass tubes and wire. "Was it you, Squeezeplay?" he heard Repugnus say.

There was no answer. Repugnus hinged and unhinged his insectoid mandibles. Then he saw Squeezeplay hurl himself at him, screaming loudly with claws outstretched. Repugnus caught him in his claws. The two went tumbling over each other, crashing against the walls of the ship.

Squeezeplay had transformed, becoming the powerful crab-like beast and using his clamping claws to drive Repugnus into a corner, but Repugnus pushed back, his smaller claws trying to keep Squeezplay from crushing him.

Fangry had also resorted to his beast form, howling and snarling, clawing against his winged foe. Doublecross had missed his opportunity, his firebreath would be of no avail against Fangry's close attack.

Fangry drooled. "Copycats. Did you want to see some real monsters?"

Doublecross bit Fangry's shoulders with each of his two heads.

"Real monsters?" he said. "Well, I have no idea what you mean."

"And neither do I," said the other head.

Squeezeplay had gotten the upper hand, overpowering Repug's grip and was pulling his arms against his shoulder sockets. Repugnus' shoulders would burst any second.

"You would've made a great Decepticon, Repug. Why remain an Autobot?"

Repugnus was about to give out. "Hoo-Har! Because it's too much fun evisceratin' Decepticons!"

"You been watchin' too many Earth shows."

"I'm about to go Defenders of Dynatron City on your gas cap."

The Autobot's chest flipped open, revealing a hollow compartment. A small person leapt out from Repugnus' abdomen. The act caught Squeezeplay off guard. The small creature jumped at Squeezeplay's face, blinding him.

"Gah! What's this?!"

"A little help," he heard Repugnus say.

Doublecross and Grotusque did the same. They each flipped open their chest cavities and smaller bots emerged, battle ready. They shot at the Decepticons while their larger partners pummeled the cons with fist and claw. The surprise attack was too much, where once they had the advantage, the smaller allies of the Autobots quickly overwhelmed their strength. Each of the Autobot monsters now transformed, discarding the brute strength and fire power of their beastial foms, and assumed their robot shapes. The only thing missing were their heads. That's when another act took place that caught the Decepticons off guard. The smaller Transformers, which had emerged like birds out of cuckoo-clocks, folded up and transformed into the missing heads of the Autobots, connecting the two robots at the neck into one complete warrior. The Decepticons were aghast.

Grotusque heaved Horri-Bull off the ground, hurling him across the hallway. He hit his head on a steel pipe, incapacitating him. Doublecross slammed Fangry sideways, sending him head over heels. It wasn't long before Squeezeplay found himself under the same treatment. He was shot full on in the chest by Repug's gun barrel. Squeezeplay keeled over, gripping his exposed chest component.

Then another newcomer burst through the elevator's doors. A spikey, grinning enemy appeared. "Well boys, that's all she wrote. We've gotten all our pure chewing satisfaction from this ship. Time to trade the older model for what's hot on the market."

Squeezeplay peered over his shoulder. It was the Junkion leader, Wreck-Gar.

Their forces overwhelmed, Lokos picked up Squeezeplay's gun, looking around frantically. He spotted a red light on the wall. It was an airlock. He shot it. There was a burst through the hall as air was sucked out of the chamber.

"Do you mind?" Wreck-Gar said. "I just made my last monthly installment!"

Horri-Bull, dizzy from the head down, realized what Lokos was doing and aimed his rifle at a gas-containing pipe. He tore a hole in it wide enough to start a flash fire. Now the hallway was an inferno, an inferno caught in a hurricane.

Wreck-Gar lead a charge through the opening in the side of the ship, waving an arm for the others to follow. He and the Autobots made their way through to a concealed emergency hatch. They boarded an escape pod. The airlocks sealed and the soon the pod jettisoned off the ship's side.

"They're escaping!" Fangry shouted.

"Leave them," Squeezeplay said. "We got theirs."

"Are you serious!? We can still catch them."

Squeezeplay held his midsection. His was critical.

Fangry saw the damage done and growled. He thrashed around until he had shredded some broken pipes and ruined the ship even more. Horri-Bull was the only one who was still thinking and grabbed the other two, pulling them past the airlock into the corridor of the ship. At least this room was not on fire.

The engines rumbled. The gang regrouped in the middle. Horri-Bull was worse for wear, but otherwise still functional. The larger of the monstrous bots looked at the Nebulons, remembering how little they had contributed to the fight. However, thought Horri-Bull, if it wasn't for the quick thinking of Lokos, well… who knows.

Squeezeplay felt the blast burn around his midsection. He was in awful need of repair. He'd survive, but not if they lingered too long. "Come." Squeezeplay grumbled. "Let's see what sort of spoils we got." What stung more than his wires spilling out over his belly was the notion that the pipsqueak, Repugnus, had mopped the floor with him.

"Can't be very much," Brisko said flicking out his pen. "They made off in those escape pods without looking back."

The feeling stung. They had been severely trounced. Now Horri-Bull silently smoldered, hoping there would be a substantial amount of energon or otherwise to have taken this risk.

They headed for the cockpit, the secured data files would be of use to transmit to the Decepticon commanders. The rest of the ship, unoccupied though it was, remained active with its blinking lights. Security cameras swiveled to watch them.

Brisko and the other Nebulons were unsure if the cruiser was completely empty. The three desperately wanted to return to their own ship. More alarming, typing could be heard echoing from the cockpit.

Horri-Bull, on guard, drew his blaster.

Fangry, fuming from their earlier loss, entered first, donning his drooling wolf mode. Perhaps intimidation would be a good tactic.

They opened the cockpit door. The cabin held multiple crew seats. Several alarm lights were blinking on the console. Inside was a red pilot's chair and someone sat in it with their back turned to them.

Fangry lowered his weapon, pointing it at the chair. Who had remained behind on this sinking ship?

"Hands up, fella," Fangry sneered.

The chair's occupant stopped typing. There was a moment's pause. They had clearly heard Fangry's demand.

"Get out of that chair."

Again, the lingering behavior of the silent pilot snuck the feeling of dread into their wiring. Was this person deaf? Were they afraid? Or were they so brash that not even a pistol pointed at their back was a good enough reason for them to turn around?

Fangry clicked the trigger as a warning.

The chair swiveled around slowly. The Decepticons were speechless. Sitting in the chair was a full grown, Earth chicken. No, it wasn't an Earth chicken. It was a Cybetronian. The white, boxy body and red comb gave the impression of a chicken. If it had been one of those, it would have stood well over fifteen feet tall. Resting in its arms, pointed at them, was a huge red bazooka.

The chicken Cybertronian flashed a menacing smile. "Hello, Boys."

The Decepticons froze. They were caught with their cyber-pants down. A single slug from that bazooka would blow all six of them into crispy fritters.

"It's time for ya'll to hand over those weapons. Nice and easy."

The Decepticons recoiled. A chicken was making demands and they were at its mercy.

He leaned forward in his swivel chair. "C'mon now. I wouldn't want to see those pretty faces charbroiled."

The cons relented, casting death glares at the robot fowl before tossing their weapons on the slick floor before his feet.

"Okay. That's a lot more like it. Now. You boys are gonna sit pretty in those seats over yonder, whilst I take a look at my new property." He referred to their craft.

"Who… who are you?" Brisko asked.

He looked the diminutive bot over carefully. "Why… if it isn't a Titan Master…" His eyes flashed and he displayed a toothy grin. "Could sure use one of ya." He looked over the rest of the Decepticons. "Alright… here's the deal, I'll make this easy. You boys give me the little tykes and we swap ships."

"In exchange for what?" Squeezeplay asked, still holding his midsection.

The bazooka-wielding chicken smiled at him open-mouthed as though Squeeze had missed a joke. "For your lives, 'course."

Fangry snorted. "No one gives me orders."

"Until now," he pointed the bazooka at him. "Hands up. Back up against the wall, all ah yah."

Fangry's lips pulled back into a sneer. He considered slashing the bazooka before their foe could fire, but it was a dangerous risk, and he was too far away. Brisko wondered if there was some way of tricking him into letting his guard down. Squeezeplay would have gladly leapt in the path of the bazooka shell if he knew the others could survive the blast and retaliate but there was no way of knowing. In the end, there didn't seem to be a way of coercing him or outmaneuvering him, so they turned to side up against the hull of the junk ship.

"That's better," the chicken said. "I know how sneaky guys like you often be. That's why we're not taking any chances here."

The chicken looked around. "Say… weren't there six of ya?" He turned side to side. One of them was missing. Where did he—

The chicken looked up, on the ceiling was the last one hanging upside down. Brisko let go of the ship's ceiling and divebombed the chicken's face. He pummeled his optics with a flurry of punches. As if that wasn't enough, Brisko shot a blast of steam in his eyes. The chicken hurled the Nebulon off his face. The moment's distraction worked. In the brief span that his vision had been blocked, Fangry closed the gap and was well past the barrel of the bazooka. The chicken gulped. He felt Fangry's fist fly into his jaw and knock him off his feet. The chicken tumbled in the air, crashing on his back. In a moment, he was pinned, arms, legs, and all. The Decepticons had apprehended him and hoisted him to his feet.

"Let go of me," he said, while he struggled to free his arms.

Fangry raised his right arm. "Do you want another smack in the face?"

"No! It still stings from the last one. Still, you should let me go."

"You're a cheeky one, aren'tcha, Colonel Sanders?" Kreb said. "Tie him up."

The Decepticons strapped him into the first starboard chair.

"Don't suppose it'd help if I said I was sorry."

Kreb snickered. "Eh. Couldn't hurt. Why were you and the Autobots headed to Magnon?"

"I hired'em so they could help me with my research." He spat a lot when he spoke. "They were the only Autobots crazy enough to fly me over there. There's a distress signal coming from Magnon. And I bet there be some Titan Masters on there."

"There's that word again," Fangry said, "Titan Masters."

"Why that's what they are," he said pointing at Brisko, Kreb and Lokos.

"There's something you're not telling us," Horri-Bull said.

"Hah!" The chicken cackled. "Of course. Them Titan Masters are natural power enhancers. They've each got a power spark that can augment a Cybertronian."

"So that's it." Fangry craned his neck to stare at Brisko. "You've been holding out on us. Who's the chump sleeping in the back of the ship, eh?"

Brisko stared at Kreb.

Kreb nodded, it was time to come clean. "He's a Nebulon traitor. He was marked for execution."

The Decepticon warriors glanced at each other. Fangry nodded. It was now starting to make sense. "Something brutal happened to that planet. Those people on Magnon were slaughtered. Was it that Nebulon?"

Lokos stared down Fangry, his voice becoming stern. "We think it's something worse. We won't know until we've decrypted the data file from those computers. But listen…"

Fangry shook slightly, getting irritated. Something was wrong with his right eye, it kept pulsing.

"We had no idea what we'd find," Kreb said. "Could have been loot, could've been a hamburger, could've been a murderer… anyway… we aren't sure about everything that happened back there. But you saw that Titan, someone paid his final ticket ride on the tunnel of love, and it was clearly a bad date. And why would we let you know all the deets right away? We Nebulons want survival, that's all."

Fangry's metallic fur bristled. "We placed our hides on the line so you could find your sleeping friend."

"On top of that," Squeezeplay said, "our copycats nearly killed us."

Horri-Bull nodded. "Be-cause they had allies that could fight."

The small Nebulons were silent.

They heard a squawk. "Excuse me." Fangry looked at the chicken. His voice was irritating. "I just couldn't help overhear. Perhaps we can help each other."

"What is it you want?" Fangry said.

"Just listen. Sounds like you guys already did my job for me. I was lookin' for the source of that Titan Master signal. Not gonna lie, the research could make me a bundle."

"You want the little guy sleeping on our ship."

"That's right," the chicken smiled innocently.

"Why should we do that?" Fangry said. "Your clucking's getting on my nerves."

Brisko agreed. "And the emptiness of space seems like a suitable place to toss your tailfeathers."

The chicken was prepared for this. "There's a process. Not sure if you've heard. Could make you guys ten times better. You saw how your Autobot buddies were able to combine their little allies' heads onto their bodies. Well, the same could be done for ya'll. Put some think on it." He looked at the Nebulon Titan Masters and then back to the Decepticon beasts. "You join your bodies together and become ten times stronger in the process."

The two groups looked at each other with both suspicion and intrigue. They weren't just tiny Cybertronians after, all. The Nebulons contained power.

Oil spurted from Squeezeplay's mouth. He gripped his middle once again, the lights of his eyes flickered out and he collapsed to the floor. His face slacked to a vacuous glare and his consciousness emptied like the void of space.


	4. Chapter 4

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Omega Supreme was ready; the shuttle mission to Earth would begin in as little as ten decacycles. Rodimus stared at the towering giant. You couldn't tell that Omega was an Autobot in his rocket mode. He seemed more like a building, towering over everything. What is it like having a view like that—where you look down on everyone from on high? You'd think Omega would have a huge ego. Rodimus smiled. Not so, Omega was one of the most humble Autobots ever forged… but he certainly seemed distant at times. The bot was so giant, that he spent much of his time alone, unfortunately. There were a couple reasons for this. First of all, because of his size, it was hard for him to attend meetings, data transfer conferences, or even having a good seat in a theater, though, he'd been told that Omega would sometimes watch drive-in movies for free on Earth. His radio receiver would pick up the signal, and he was tall enough to watch the drive-in screen from a mile away. The other bots appreciated him greatly then. They would sit on his shoulders and together would watch "Harry and the Hendersons."

The other issue was that, to stay active, Omega required vast amounts of power, and so, he usually preferred not to be the burden on the Autobots he felt he was and remained in his alternate modes to conserve fuel. Even though he'd been told hundreds of times that they had fuel to spare, Omega was the type who would silently and politely decline for his Autobot friends. Thus, the giant was regulated to being often viewed as part of the skyline. He was nearly a permanent fixture. Being an outer-space rocket meant, when viewed from afar, you could easily mistake him for a city tower. He blended in with the background.

Rodimus understood, though, the real reason why Omega was so distant. He just felt different. That was all. And because he was bigger than the rest, he seemed to feel it was his duty to watch over those smaller than himself. Rodimus bowed his head in contemplation. His optics traveled down the bulk of the rocket and noticed, atop the launch base, a familiar blue face, staring back at him across the ramp gap.

It was Ultra Magnus, standing in a stern pose, his arms folded. How long had Rodimus been staring blankly at Omega? Magnus was one of the few who felt could scold him, even though he was the leader of the Autobots. Why was that? The way Magnus stood, tapping his finger on his elbows, signaled that he had something to say to Rodimus.

Once across the ramp, Rodimus stared up at the tall Magnus.

"Have you forgotten?"

Rodimus staggered, if there's anyone who could make him feel insecure, it was definitely Magnus. What had he forgotten? He had left Magnus in charge as the City Commander… with Kup and Springer at the first and second bases. Those seemed the most important duties. "What is it, Magnus?"

Ultra Magnus smiled devilishly. "You forgot to pick someone in your place for the race on Velocitron."

"Oh." He had completely forgotten. But the Velocitron race was for entertainment, it was the least of his worries. Now he realized it, Ultra Magnus was teasing him.

"Blurr then," Rodimus said. "He's the best."

The tall blue Autobot slugged him lightly on his right shoulder. "You okay, Rodimus?"

"Yeah. I… guess I have a lot on my mind."

"I think this trip to Earth will be good to refresh you… but don't take too long."

"Right."

It was still strange to hear him call him Rodimus. He was a Prime now, after all… and yet… it didn't feel right either. The matrix of leadership had chosen him. Why though? It had once resided inside Ultra Magnus's chest. Magnus clearly had leadership skills. He was an amazing soldier and was disciplined to a fault. Could the matrix have been wrong? But that was impossible. Wasn't it?

"Magnus… do you sometimes wish you were the commander… instead of me?"

Ultra Magnus's jaw dropped. He had no idea what to say. This caught him completely off guard. Rodimus… I can't speak freely about this."

"Then I grant you permission to speak freely."

Ultra Magnus looked around to make sure no one was within hearing range. His face became grim. When his back straightened, he appeared to grow a couple stories. "I'm… not sure it's wise to ask a question if one of the answers is something that you don't want to hear."

"I think I understand." Rodimus looked at the ground. "The thing is. I've been having these doubts. That perhaps I got lucky. That I may be leading the Autobots down the wrong path. I mean, it's not just friends, but everybody. Bots I don't even know about are being affected by my decisions. It's a lot to take in."

"Mhmm." Ultra Magnus continued his icy stare. "Well, for some, leadership is a role, a skill that is trained and learned through exhausting hours and extreme patience. For others… sometimes in the heat of battle, there are those that just happen to be in the right place at the right time."

The two caught each other's gaze. Magnus held impeccable qualities. The way he talked, the way he moved, the way he commanded with ease and a relaxed, stern tone; it was all by the book—years of military precision encapsulated in one mind. Magnus's shoulders were squared up. His stance was wide and imposing, but these were actions molded by routine and discipline. Rodimus looked at himself. He was nearly slouching. His feet were held together, and his own voice betrayed his confidence. In short, there was no question.

"But…" Magnus said—what more could he humiliate him with? "…Sometimes the one that had earned all the medals and studied all the books, crumples in the heat of battle. And sometimes those that are born leaders simply don't want to take the mantle."

Rodimus felt his gears relaxing.

"It's not just one thing, to be leader," Magnus said. "It's many."

"Thanks, Magnus." He smiled at his friend. "But you still haven't answered my question."

Ultra Magnus was afraid of this. He looked around. "I see the advancements you've made to this great city. It will be come out fine. It should be complete in twenty hecacycles."

They saw the red domes of the frequency jammers and the repairs done to the ramps and highways.

"But," he continued, "if it was my show, they would have been complete in ten."

The words hit Rodimus in the chest.

Ultra Magnus stared at him. "If you think others haven't been waiting their whole lives to be in charge… you'd be naïve." And turned his back to him. A few moments passed as he viewed little supply cars rolling through the under-tunnels. "Don't let one event give you a big head. We may have won Cybertron, but the real test's keeping it. The real test of your authority's maintaining it. Stop looking at how ready or not you were when the moment needed you. Focus on what the Autobots need you for now and for the future." The large blue transformer walked away along the ramp. He left Rodimus in the shadow of the imposing Omega Supreme.

It would be a grueling wait for Omega to be stationed, fueled and loaded. Rodimus kept to himself for eight long hours. Spike noticed he the change in behavior and felt worried. He checked Rodimus's travel crate to make sure everything was in there. It seemed silly for him to watch over Rodimus this way, like a father to a child. But as he saw Daniel packing his hoverboard, and he remembered that Rodimus had been a very different Autobot not too long ago. And his fatherly instincts were now making him do something he hated himself for. He was looking through Rodimus's belongings. He was spying on him, but it felt justified. What was he looking for? Then he found something that could give him answers.

He pulled from the crate a fishing rod. An ordinary, wooden fishing rod. Of course… Spike breathed a sigh of relief. What was he worried about, anyway?

The countdown started. Omega announced it himself. "Launch… eminent… Ignition… start…" The rocket sailed into Cybertron's skies. Leinad couldn't stay away from the window, awed by the sight outside. Arcee smiled, and put the rocket on Autopilot, it was Omega after all. Spike looked down below. Cybertron was shrinking away further from him. Who knows how long it would be until he saw it again… if ever. Ultra Magnus watched from the launch tower below, he saw the dark smoke trail left behind. In the clear skies above Cybertron, it felt like a coil, a tendril wrapping around his spark. Rodimus felt in higher spirits. Inside Omega, it felt like all was safe.

His smile grew wider as the trip continued and waved for Daniel to come sit with him. "How's it goin', Danny-boy?"

"I've never ridden inside Omega, it's pretty cool."

"Haha. Yeah. It's like we're in his belly."

"I think Omega is the best Autobot ever."

Rodimus smirked. "Really? Better than any other Autobot? You know, you can ride in other Autobots too."

"Yup. But Omega's the strongest."

A large booming voice broadcast through the interior of the bay. "I agree…" The voice alone made the rocket rumble.

Daniel laughed. And so did Hot Rod.

"What do you want to see when we get back to Earth?"

"Um…" He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor. "I'm not sure I'm going to be able to spend as much time with the Autobots anymore."

Rodimus waited patiently.

"Mom says I need to focus on school studies," Daniel said.

Rodimus nodded. "Well, you're mom's right." In the back of his mind, he now had a fishing rod which served no use on this trip anymore. The blue planet, with its cerulean lakes and rivers would be safe from Rodimus's hook this time.

Cerebros checked in on Rodimus after they had passed the safe diameter of Cybertron's gravitational field. He could see Rodimus looking for any excuse to put down his gamma report to humor Leinad. Leinad was telling him about a petrorabbit she once raised on Nebulos whom she'd named Lyra. Rodimus listened with interest. This was exactly what they both needed, Cerebros thought. He brought up the gamma report to check it himself. There were more casualties on Nebulos. The planet was a difficult place to come from. Leinad was lucky to be alive; the leader of Nebulos had forcefully taken control years ago and the Nebulons who had defied him were now on the run. Leinad's companions had all been killed by the Nebulon armies. It was Arcee and the others from Cybertron that managed to get her and other refugees safely back to Cybertron and Earth.

Cerebros gazed at the asteroids and dust clouds, some larger than galaxies. How long would this battle between Autobots and Depecticons go on? And was there any meaning to it? Aside from their factions, was there any difference between an Autobot and Decepticon? Couldn't they build a new world together one day?


	5. Chapter 5

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Earth was not exactly as Leinad expected. She was puzzled by the humans, who stood at the same height as herself. She expected them to be different from Spike for some reason. Out of all the humans she wanted to see, Daniel's mother was at the top of her list. When she was introduced to Carly, Leinad was disappointed. In her mind she imagined Earth women to be taller than their male counterparts, made of sleek, hard titanium and sporting silver faces. Carly was soft like her companion and pinkish. She was wide in some areas and slender in others. These designs seemed to mock Leinad. Carly had similar characteristics to Arcee and herself. She had the body of a warrior, and yet she didn't carry pistols or saw blades or anything resembling a weapon. What made matters worse, Carly was shorter than Spike. Because of this, Leinad felt she couldn't trust her. Leinad hoped Carly at least had eyebeams.

"It's a pleasure, Leinad." Carly extended her appendage to Leinad, pointing at her own white limb. What was it again that humans do? Some sort of physical greeting. Leinad extended her forehead out, hoping this was the proper response. Instead the humans laughed at her. Leinad hated this, and she wished Carly would shut up and leave her alone.

The humans were incapable of transformation, as Leinad soon discovered. They, at least, had that in common with her, so to move about, they rode inside drones that resembled the alternate modes of the Autobots. It seemed a primitive practice.

The funeral was held in a small aqua-blue building. Unfortunately, the ceiling was too low for the Autobots to join. "It's okay, Spike," Rodimus said. "We'll sit outside quietly."

Chip, Spike's old friend, arrived from the eastern parking lot. He came on a device that surprised Leinad. Chip rolled on wheelchair, the sight of which made Leinad realize there was a similarity the two shared. Chip shook Spike's hand. Leinad realized this was the gesture they had expected before.

Rodimus watched as Spike and Daniel approached the casket at the far side of the room. He noticed how very precise they were about staying within the symmetrical lines of the carpet and how quiet both Spike and Daniel were. Spike's eyes leaked fluid when he looked at the casket of his father. Rodimus saw the scene and noted how many rituals were involved. He wished he could comfort his friend and Daniel. It looked like they were in pain. Death was not the same for Autobots and humans. The Earth people had such shorter life spans, that they appeared to value their longevity very much. Perhaps more than an Autobot did.

"What's it like," Leinad asked him, "to have a father?"

Rodimus wondered the very same. Of course, he never had one. He was sure he could never feel the way Spike did. He turned to look at Cerebros sitting next to him.

"This appears to be very difficult for them," he said to Cerebros.

Cerebros nodded. "Of course. They'd be heartless to not feel sadness."

"I wish I could feel what they feel," Rodimus said to Leinad. "So I could make them not feel the pain."

Cerebros turned to him, his face surprised. He bit his tongue. Was Rodimus being serious? He should say something, thought Cerebros. No, that might be going too far. He stared at the ground. Then some words came to him.

"The point is not to take the pain away."

"Then what is the point?" Rodimus said. "What's the point of any of it?"

"Rodimus…"

"Sorry… I just…" Then he turned back to Leinad.

"Leinad, I will never know what it's like to have a father. I'll never experience a loss like that."

Cerebros had no idea what to say. Instead he faced forward to avoid Rodimus's gaze.

Spike's friend, Chip approached the oak casket. "Your father was a kind, warmhearted man."

Spike placed a hand on the casket. He wiped the tears from his eyes. "Goodbye, Dad."

Daniel held his father's hand. "Goodbye, Grandpa."

Carly held Spike's shoulder and he tilted his head, closed his eyes, and rested it against hers.

The red sun finally set behind the blue building and Rodimus was glad. He didn't feel he could take anymore. The family came out to greet them.

Rodimus stood from his seat and looked down at them. "I'm sorry, Spike."

Spike placed his hand on Rodimus's large palm. "I know."

There were many beings in Spike's life, Rodimus thought. He shared his compassion and caring with so many. But no one could ever take the place of Spike's father. This is what it means for loss in a human… No one could ever take that place. No one.

It was a long drive, but Rodimus could see Autobot City at last. He was eager for what awaited him there. The service kept playing over and over in his mind. No one could ever take his place. No matter how much Spike might try and fill that hole, it would always be there.

He was greeted warmly by the denizens of Autobot City, including Swerve and Scamper. Then he told the administrator, Blaster of his real mission. This wasn't just a check-in visit.

"You sure, Prime?"

"I'm sure, Blaster. Can you open the lock to reach him?"

Blaster nodded. "Swerve, would you take Rodimus to Axis Seven and let Slammer know? He can use his clearance to open the gate. What is it you hope to find? Something groovy?"

Rodimus stared down at his chest. He felt the light of the Matrix inside him. "I'm not sure."

Blaster shook his head. "Well, if that's the case, then I hope it doesn't turn out to be a wild goose chase."

Rodimus chuckled. "It won't be."

Swerve showed him to the diagonal elevator which would take them to Axis Seven.

"I'm curious why you want to speak with Metroplex, Rodimus."

"I can't really say just yet what that reason is. It's more like a feeling for now."

"Well, Metroplex has always been an interest of mine. I'd love to study his construction, he's really mysterious. His components could be older than any other Cybertronian. I'm not sure if he's even from Cybertron."

"Well then, I hope we can both learn something, Swerve."

When they reached the bottom, Swerve received a dispatch on his receiver. "Sorry, Rodimus; I have to let you go on your own. There's a problem with the transformation cog and I need to see how bad it is."

"I understand," Rodimus said. Then he turned several corridors and crossed a causeway. Axis Seven would be just around the corner.

"No leader."

The voice startled Rodimus. He turned around. Standing in the shadows of the corridor tunnel, five meters north, and staring back at him, lumbered Grimlock, the Dinobot leader. "No leader."

The words seared him. "What?" He turned and faced Grimlock. The Dinobot had always butted heads with Optimus, but he had never shown much defiance to Rodimus. Why was he challenging his leadership now?

"Why no leader?" Rodimus said, realizing too late, he was speaking in a clumsy manner, copying the way that Grimlock spoke.

Grimlock approached him. Grimlock was hard-headed and hard skinned. Which made him hard to control. "Me say, me know leader." The large bot extended his large hand to shake Rodimus.

"We no had time to talk after battle on Cybertron. It good to see you again. Me know new leader."

"It's… good to see you too, Grimlock."

"Me remember, you destroy largest planet bot. That take much strength. Honestly, me didn't think you had it in you, at first."

Rodimus nodded. "Your words… mean a lot to me."

"Of course. Me, Grimlock." He shoved a keycard in Rodimus's hand. "You come by garrison later. We talk then." Then he walked past Rodimus, taking the elevator he had used just a moment before to descend to this level. Grimlock must have been waiting for Rodimus to head down here. But how did he know he was coming here?

Slammer stood at the gate of Axis Seven. "Good to see you, Rodimus. I provide security for Metroplex. You wouldn't be able to get in without my clearance. I'm sorry you came all this way. I doubt you'll find anything useful. Metroplex doesn't speak to anyone."

"Thanks, Slammer. I'll take my chances anyway. I promise not to wreck anything."

Slammer didn't smile. Not one for jokes.

"Even though you're the Prime, I take great care of Metroplex."

"I can see that."

A grunt escaped Slammer. He inserted his key card, letting the wall reader recognize it. With a delightful chirp, the card was accepted. A three-meter-thick wall unlatched its titanium grapples. Several duranium locks sprung open and the wall slid aside. The tunnel's ceiling lights awakened shortly after. Rodimus let his compressors relax, then he took his first step inside Metroplex.

Gone were the copper-colored floor panels of Autobot City, instead, the floor was made of white steel and crimson pipes. The jagged crevices in the floor's pattern were reminiscent of the ridges of rubber tires. Light glinted on the walls, exposing the corridor's design—similar to tank-like treads. "Metroplex?" His voice carried far down the tunnel. There was no call back. This should have been like meeting Omega Supreme. Omega was not one to talk, but at least he responded with something. Metroplex made no attempts to communicate. He wasn't deactivated, so why was the Titan not responding to him?

He turned a corner. He needed to get to the Solar Plex Chamber in order to communicate with him. At least, that's how the city speaker had been able to do it. Would it speak to any Prime? Or had he only decided to talk to Optimus because it was the legendary Optimus Prime?

The chamber came to a narrow, low-ceiling path. He turned to his left. There was a larger vault open to the eastern side, but the guide lights weren't lighting that path. Instead, the tunnel seemed more hidden, in a way that made Rodimus feel the Titan wanted to remain unseen.

"You go wrong way. Lead self astray."

Rodimus turned quick, drawing his blaster. He was surprised to find a fellow Autobot standing behind him. It was Wheelie. Rodimus took his digit off the trigger. Wheelie wore an impish grin.

"Oh. You scared me. What are you doing here, Wheelie? How'd you get past Slammer?"

"Heard you were in town. But then nowhere to be found."

"Sorry. I have tons of things that require my attention. You shouldn't be here. Not all the causeways are lit. It might be dangerous."

"You think I'm scared? I've seen Metroplex's lair. You look lost. But still think you're boss."

Did Wheelie say he'd seen Metroplex? Did he know the way?

Wheelie transformed into a small car and sped past Rodimus. The Autobot leader shouted after him. It was no use. Wheelie raced around the corner. Perhaps he did know the way. Rodimus switched to his vehicle mode and rolled after him.

Wheelie took an eastern tunnel then he took a turn westward. It was like racing through a pipe maze. Before long they came to a vast antechamber. On the south wall was a ramp leading to a towering wall terminal. It was a computer terminal that stretched four city blocks wide. Rodimus changed back. He stopped to take in the surroundings. This was obviously an important chamber within Metroplex. He had forgotten about Wheelie. The small bot was nowhere to be found. It was as if Wheelie had abandoned him. Then he felt the ground shaking. There was a rumble, as the walls opened and closed like the chambers of an accordion. He then heard a powerful voice reverberate around him. It was the voice of Metroplex, the city-sized Cybertronian.

"At last you come, last of the Primes." The giant's voice came from every corner of the chamber. He felt the words continue to rattle in his chest. So… the Titan knew his name. Then he felt a strange sensation. It was coming from deep in his chest. A radiant tingle emanated from his center outward… to the extremities.

"Metroplex… I've come to speak with you."

"I know."

Rodimus felt his digits get oily with sweat. "Metroplex, I know you helped out Optimus in the past. I've come to seek your assistance."

The Titan's inner circuitry lit up while his pistons and gears moved within his walls which made Rodimus believe the Titan was thinking, but not forthcoming.

Rodimus felt the boiling in his chest like a rising bubble breaching the surface. "For so many years I thought they had built you large because you liked the feeling of Autobots rolling down the ramps on your arms. You aren't a city, are you?"

Many of the wall's circuit lights lit up.

"What are you, exactly? And what's your connection to the Titan Masters?"

The lights paused their pattern. The deep voice rose from the colossal innards. It wasn't so much a voice, it was more like the walls were rumbling together. "I am… Metroplex. I am the protector of the Autobots."

Rodimus was glad to have such a giant on their side. He was both in awe and frightened of the huge rumbling.

"I will reveal to you my true purpose before my commitment to the Autobots. Know this… I sense your inner voice. I am aware of the burden you carry. Your doubts will lead you to ruin, Prime."

Rodimus staggered. It was as though the giant's metallic voice traveled right through his body and left his inner self bare for all to see. Rodimus' outer shell felt naked, as transparent as transmetal, so that there was no separation between his thoughts and the giant's. Rodimus made no attempt to interrupt Metroplex. He needed him to reveal as much as he could.

"If you seek to live up to the Prime before you… failure shall be the harvest. You cannot walk the path that Optimus did, because you are not Optimus Prime nor ever will be."

This alone made Rodimus want to transform and race out of there.

"Long ago… I, and others like me, visited many worlds. We seeded life throughout the galaxy, finding sources of energy to sustain ourselves and our passengers, our priceless cargo, our burden. I… and others were the vessels for spreading life such as ours into the furthest reaches of space. We did this to ensure the perpetuation of existence."

Rodimus's eyes flickered.

"My charge was my crew. I sustained and shuttled them from planet to planet, and once we arrived on a suitable home, I protected them and gave them shelter. I would become dormant until it was time to spread a new generation of life to another world. Countless eons passed in this way."

"I see…" Rodimus said. "This must be why you care so much about protecting the Autobots. It's in your nature."

Metroplex paused, mulling over the words. "…It's true… that it is in my nature to protect… but I have not always been successful."

Rodimus saw the walls squeezing together. He felt a draft blow over him. Was Metroplex sighing?

"The Titan Masters were my crew. In return for aiding and caring for them, they in turn took care of me, by maintaining and repairing me. They repaired my broken pieces and replaced worn out parts. Without them, I would cease to exist."

Rodimus's mouth parted. "But… you have no crew."

"Correct."

"What happened to your crew?"

Again, Metroplex sighed, if one could call it that. "I knew many other… Titans… Caminus… Maximus… Scorponok… There was one among us—a Titan that went against its mission. A Titan who does not protect. The Titans are nearly extinct. We live in a symbiotic relationship with our crews. There is one responsible for the slaying of my crew."

Rodimus felt a quake through his body. "Metroplex…"

The giant trembled. There was a long pause. "The time is nigh, Rodimus Prime… when you will be faced with your deepest fear. The day is coming… You will prove once and for all if you are worthy of the Matrix… and I…"

Here, Metroplex's circuitry glowed brighter than before.

"…I will do what needs to be done."

Rodimus staggered. "What does that mean?"

"The time is nigh. The war is coming to Earth. This shall be the battleground for both of us. The Titans return."

The lights of Metroplex's interior stopped flashing and all became dark.

"Metroplex?" Rodimus received no response. He called again without answer. The Titan was silent, and Rodimus stood in the darkness pondering all he heard. Was this a prediction the Titan made? Or… was it something inevitable?


	6. Chapter 6

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Charr's ion field hid the planet from probing waves coming from Cybertron. It was a suitable planet for the relocated Decepticons. The new Decepticon base featured many missing elements. There was no castle for Galvatron and there were fewer barracks—less research stations and less weapons factories. In short, for the Decepticons, Charr was a repro-prawn while Cybertron had been a techno-lobster. Cyclonus had been hoping his trip to the Phalanx Research Station would reveal something to curb their energy bleed. But no avail. This Titan Master scenario, that momentarily intrigued both Decepticon and Autobot, could solve the energy problem, so long as the Decepticons were willing to shrink their bodies down to the size of the Nebulons. As if that would happen. There was talk of a charismatic Nebulon that rivaled the brilliance of Galvatron and was making promises of abundant energy to those who would be loyal to him. This too was removing support for Galvatron.

Cyclonus looked down at the data pad in his hand. The scientists had given Cyclonus nothing good to report to Galvatron with. But he felt no fear. Somehow, he felt his mission had been Galvatron's attempt to distance himself from his nearest lieutenants. But why would that be?

Cyclonus walked the corridor to Galvatron's research lab. The usual guard standing watch over Galvatron had been Quake. Curiously, he kept only a lone Sweep outside the hall now, which was a step down, and no guards at all in the gallery. This was strange. His leader had watchmen stationed at all times. Now it seemed security was lax. What was the reason? Furthermore, it bothered Cyclonus that Galvatron should be found more often in the lab than in his war room. Something was amiss, but he felt it would be good to meet with Galvatron. He had a distraction for him.

The sliding doors slithered open. The room was dark save for the glow of the computer screens. His master was seated at the far end of the lab. Cyclonus padded his footfalls as he entered. Galvatron paid him no mind, his focus was on the monitor. Cyclonus saw on that screen data analysis labeled Titan Master and read outs of output energy. Cyclonus cleared his vocalizer. "My Lord."

Galvatron remained with his back to Cyclonus. Did his audio-sensors miss him? Better to guess that they were still functioning fine that to question them. He stood silent and poised. One nanoclip later, Galvatron swiveled his chair to stare at Cyclonus. Galvatron's bright, orange blaster was always kept on his right arm now. His eyes ran down Cyclonu and halted at the data log file on Cyclonus' arm.

"What's this?" Galvatron asked.

"I thought this might interest you, Galvatron." He handed the data pad to him. "It's the transcript of an Earth-made robot that was executed for an Earth crime."

Galvtron looked over the file. He pointed to the open chair.

Cyclonus sat in the open high-backed chair next to Galvatron. His guess was correct, the log was a good distraction. Galvatron scoured through it.

"Curious, those creatures are," Cyclonus said. "In fear of us, they maimed an unfeeling and unthinking machine. The machine was a primitive construction, no more alive than welded-together sheet metal."

"What was the machine's crime?" Galvatron asked.

"It seems that this basic robot was programmed to do a simple task of moving heavy packages inside a warehouse. Again, I emphasize that it could think no more rationally than an Earth vehicle. Its processors were pre-recorded vocalizations. One day, it accidentally harmed a human to nearly killing him. The machine was simply following protocol, like an elevator or a microwave oven. Eventually the machine was examined, found undamaged, however, it was still decided that it should be put to trial. It was the first ever recorded moment when an Earth machine was regarded as capable of being guilty of a willfully malignant transgression."

"What made this machine different from any other?"

Cyclonus raised his grey finger. "It seems the machine had one flaw which the Earth creatures found repulsive."

"And what was that?"

"It looked too much like them—soft. And actions, its articulate ability to brachiate and mobilize its limbs through motorized servos, made it the one feature that was different. In other words, the more it looked like them, the more they felt it needed to be punished."

Galvatron stared forward in contemplation. The human actions made no sense whatsoever, but he understood fear. The humans were such an easy species to manipulate, their primitive minds were based on emotional fear responses from tiny globs of jelly in their heads called amygdalae.

"My lord," Cyclonus said. It was an attempt to create conversation.

Galvatron's triple-horned helmet darkened his brow. He kept his optics hidden beneath the shadow of his crown.

Cyclonus couldn't guess what troubled his master, but he had known his master long enough to know when something was on his mind.

"How much do you remember of your former life, Cyclonus?"

The question was double-pronged, like a serpent's tongue. It was irrelevant to their military campaign. He knew Galvatron didn't ask because of Cyclonus' emotional wellbeing. The root of the question was Galvatron himself. His master was asking his own self the question.

"Very little. When the monster made me. I was already dead."

Galvatron tipped his head down, further crouching himself in his thoughts.

Cyclonus aimed to straighten his master. "You might as well ask me how the thousand years before my creation made me feel. Since my goals shifted to our military campaigns, I tell you, it feels irrelevant now." This seemed to work, Galvatron's crimson optics flashed for a moment. "Furthermore, I feel as if I was always Cyclonus. Before I could even remember my own name, I was Cyclonus. It matters not from whence I came, or what battle I fought or how I died. I was destined to be Cyclonus. That is all."

This seemed to stir Galvatron. He turned his imperial head to face the soldier. The orange sheen of the gun's barrel glinted in the shadow. Then, in a voice of meditated contemplation, Galvatron revealed the fruits of his thoughts. "I remember much. That is why I am so puzzled. You might recall that I had been swallowed whole by the planet eater. I was inside the monster for some time…"

Cyclonus edged away in his chair.

"…All the while, do you not think I would contemplate my own mortality?"

Cyclonus was stunned. But he could not show emotion before his master. Cyclonus was a soldier and now it was as if he was the bulwark of the Decepticon cause. The next moment depended on the next spoken words. There might not be a cause at all. This could not happen. Not after the sacrifices so many of his brethren had made. Galvatron must understand that. Why was it, that long after the incident with the monster, these thoughts had surfaced?

Galvatron touched his digits to his chest-plate. "Some of our comrades were melted down to basic metal inside its belly. I wondered if I would meet the same fate. Perhaps today I would be a slab of molten metal. And yet here I am, free from the monster." He gripped his gauntleted hand. "Cyclonus, it was the monster that gave me life anew in the first place. I was drifting in space until I learned that my place was to be Galvatron."

The defeat of the Decepticons on Cybertron by the new Prime had been difficult on all Decepticons. Would it not affect their master more so than any other?

"Lord, it has been a difficult loss with Cybertron, perhaps these are the root of your inquiries?"

"No, Cyclonus." The emperor smiled. It was the fiendish smile usually worn before he ordered someone's execution. "I've been avoiding a matter for some time. I witnessed Cybertron's towers and cities dismembered bit by bit by the planet eater. Fortunately, it was spared. However, like an ironic dream, the fruits of my labor have been stolen by thieves while I lay dormant. The incident reminded me of something I've been putting off. It took the monster to make me realize the destructive power one such as he wielded. It was a route my former self had avoided. Now I realize the potential, the powerful ally we could have with a monster of our own."

"What are you saying, Lord Galvatron?"

"We'll head back to Earth. It shall be the location where our battle with the Autobots will be decided. He raised his barrel. I have not forgiven Prime's successor for the humiliation he dealt me."

Cyclonus bowed.

"To rip the matrix from Prime's torch bearer and feed it to a monster. I shall complete my original legacy. And thus… I will bury Prime completely."

Cyclonus knew that was what he really wanted, and Galvatron had enough ambition that he would drag every Decepticon with him, if he could, if only to spite Optimus Prime. It was a fool's errand… to embark on a quest merely to exact revenge on the ghosts of Galvatron's past. He might as well have ordered Cyclonus to do battle with Galvatron's shadow. This was the shadow that kept him awake. However, if it meant that Galvatron would be returned to him, if it meant his leader could be restored by erasing his failures against the Prime, it would mean the Decepticons might regain their powerful leader once more… and that meant they would gain the necessary leadership so sorely needed. It was a risk, but the reward was great. For the Decepticons to succeed, the Prime must fall.


	7. Chapter 7

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Spatters of a cobalt sea clashed against the shore's vaulted rock. The waves churned upwards, white froth hurled like the sparkles of a diamond sky. This rock which had lasted for millennia on the shore had changed to the same cobalt blue from relentless battering, and still this rock held—no longer able to recall the reason it had been lying on the shore, or what shade had been its hard, outer crust. Had time played tricks on its memory? Had it been something else before? Had it been a sea? Had it always been hard a crag? It remembered a time before the sea and before the froth... but perhaps that was illusion. Maybe there had always been a sea, and maybe its hues had always been blue. The hues of grape and cobalt are what it is now. It didn't seem correct—one day however, the sun no longer appeared to face the rock. The star had dimmed, then all was dark and the rock heard and felt the crashes of waves, but saw no longer. A small star appeared above, a dim light that drew closer. It scattered the dark scurrying back to its crevices and revealed no sea, no rock and no shore. It felt what would be known as a hardened table and it lay upon it, belly up, facing an incandescent lamp. He heard the rumbling of the engines, he felt the slither of air coiling around his shoulders and legs. He clicked his appendages together. An amethyst-colored claw snipped together. He rocked side to side on his back, his hardened carapace ground against the table and he lifted from the waist up and remembered the faces of his teammates.

Horri-Bull sighed with relief; a black cloud emerged from his blue vents. Kreb grinned widely from ear to ear. Brisko poured himself drink.

"For your health, oh crabby one." He said with smirk.

Squeezeplay took the drink, then he felt his midsection. He lay in the repair bay. The lads had saved him. He felt new parts flexing in his midsection—his equilibrium cells were working and his actuator was fine. Then he felt his head.

What was going on inside that dream, and why did his head hurt more than his gut? He felt the ridges of his cranium, something didn't feel right. The cold, hard touch was slicked slightly different, the contours no longer traced the same way. "What happened?"

Bomber approached. "Well, tough guy, we had to save you and so…"

"What did you do to my head?"

"Try not to move it so much, Lokos isn't used to the movement yet."

He felt the back of his head. "What're you saying?"

"Allow me to explain," Bomber said. The chicken with the sinister grin tossed a small silver saw and scalpel into a tool bed. He wiped his hands on a sooty rag, removing the ooze of black tar.

"What's my name? Do you remember?" The chicken's grin was large and toothy.

"…Bomber."

"That's right! What's your name? Can ya tell me where y'are?"

"Name's Squeezeplay." He recognized the overhead vents, the color of the oxidized walls. "We're on Outpost 9."

"Correct! Seems like it wuz a success, I should've taken that bet." He winked at Lokos.

Squeezeplay ran a hand down his face, down past his titanium chin and felt the securing rods in his neck. They had all been replaced. "You removed my head. You operated on me. Am I… merged with Lokos?"

The Decepticons made no answer. Bomber grinned wider.

Squeezeplay shot off the repair table. "What did you do to me?" His legs hit the floor like pistons. He staggered forward, flailing. He passed by the wash basin; over it hung a mirror. Squeezeplay stared at his reflection before resting a hard hand on the brittle surface, tracing the outline of his amethyst-purple head. He brought the fingers to his cheek, pressing the metal facets. Squeezeplay saw his face in the mirror, it moved when he turned it from side to side and the lights of his optics glowed red. Everything moved as it should, the problem was it wasn't his head.

"This isn't my face." He said, pointing an accusing finger at the mirror. "It looks like me, it moves its jaws when I speak, and its optics look where I look, but it's not my face."

It was as though his head had been removed and replaced with a replica. Some metallic parts had been shaped to simulate his cranial features.

"Now, now," Bomber said, lifting his hands to try and calm him. "You've still got your original head. There's no harm done. Try transforming."

Squeezeplay froze. For the first time in his life, he felt the fear of transforming. How ridiculous is that for a Transformer? But he tried to do so. It was awkward—he made slow movements as though he would come apart at every hinge and the floor would be littered with unfastened limbs. His bot mode folded inward and his legs lifted to become the arms for his alternate mode. His bot arms tucked behind his torso and his shell came together to encase him in crustacean armor, as usual when transforming into a monstrous purple and indigo arthropod. Now the moment of truth came. His neck rods unfastened and unscrewed. Wires unplugged where the back of his brain would be connected to his neural pathways. His jaw pulled up as though it was crushing his skull from below. He felt a violent heave and his vision blackened. He could no longer feel the connection to his head, his sensors didn't detect sounds or sight. It may have lasted for a microsecond, but it was horrifying. He only realized a moment later how his vision returned and all the audio receptors were working fine. Nothing felt different. He moved his beast body, so that the arms could touch his thorny face. His claws prodded his conical teeth, with relief he found all the normal things there like his large eyes, sloping forehead and reptilian mouth. Grinning on the ground before him was something new. It was Lokos, the Nebulon, smirking something like a fiend on him.

Squeezeplay shook his right pincer at him. "What gives?"

Lokos turned around. "looks like I'm on your team now." On Lokos' back was a facsimile of Squeezeplay's bot-mode face, upside down, hauntingly staring back with empty eyes and a slack jaw.

Bomber cleared his vocalizer. "Let me explain. You still got your normal head. When you're in your normal bot mode, everything's as you remember it, nothin' is different, but when Lokos's bonded to ya, your robot head will tuck into your chest and Lokos will replace the spot, and become your new head. The wiring all matches up perfectly, you two are perfect peas in a pod, so that when you're connected, Lokos's internal mechanisms become your sensors instead. Quite a frankendeal, but worth it."

He had a good look at Bomber up close. He could see he was a Junkion due to all the wires, rods and bolts haphazardly sticking out of him. Junkions, like Wreck-Gar, had to salvage and maintain their bodies using scraps of discarded parts from all over the galaxy, including Cybertronians. Bomber was unique, in that, he had self-made his outer shell from white parts assembled to appear as an Earth chicken, a very large chicken. On Bomber's lower right side, near his thigh, a sky-blue phrase had been painted on the outer white shell. It read, "$2 Taco Special at Chubby Chicken." Now that he thought about it, Bomber's hide looked less metallic, more like fiberglass.

"So, you mean to tell me that Lokos can turn into my head?" Squeezeplay said in a low growl. "Whenever it pleases him?"

"Not exactly," Bomber fumbled with his hands, trying to explain with complicated hand gestures. "You both have to agree to it and align proper-like. Ya combine together. This's so fascinatin'. It'll make a great data entry." Bomber clicked his fingers together while giddily grinning.

Squeezeplay stepped forward to jam his crab claw around Bomber's neck. He squeezed his pincers hard. "Why'd you do this to me?"

Bomber gasped, he fought against the pincer's strength, but Squeezeplay's one arm was an impossible grip to pry open.

"Stop it!" Lokos said. "He did it to save your life."

"To experiment on me."

Bomber flailed. He was lifted off the ground.

Horri-Bull hissed. "Per-haps, not so much, Squeeze, I volun-teered to do it too."

"You?!" Squeezeplay dropped Bomber. He landed on his back.

Horri-Bull nodded. He demonstrated by transforming, his head collapsed between his shoulders into his neck. Kreb bounded up, folded his body in half and clicked onto Horri-Bull, and spun around. Kreb's body now appeared like Horri-Bull's face. His eyes moved, his jaw moved and even the black puffs of smoke emerged from his nostrils. A perfect doppelganger.

Squeezeplay's jaw dropped. "Is that you doing that or Kreb?"

Horri-Bull chuckled. "I'm do-ing it. Or we both are. I don't know."

Fangry, arms crossed, leaned against the corner of the bay. A traditional frown lingered over him.

"You?" Squeezeplay asked him. "You go through with this too?"

His yellow eyes glared back at him. His left one crackled as though he had an optical power failure in his left orbital component. It gave him the appearance of having a twitchy optic nerve. "No."

There was only one who had not yet been bonded, and that was Brisko. He stood near to Fangry, but the two were not looking at each other, as though they had a falling out. Fangry sneered. "You'd have to shoot me in the back before I go through with that."

Brisko didn't say anything. He avoided Fangry's menacing glare. That yellow eye flickered like a spotlight over him.

Squeezeplay heard an annoying cough. Bomber had picked himself off the floor, he rubbed his throat. "Yeah, you're welcome. All I did wuz save your sorry transistors."

Horri-Bull laid a hand on Bomber's shoulder. "You said bond-ing with Kreb would grant me abil-ities."

"So I did." Bomber rocked his head from side to side. "You might've dislocated my lock switch. No wonder you guys are stranded out here by yourselves. You're more ornery than rabid sharkticons."

"These abil-ities." Horri-Bull repeated.

Bomber scoffed. "I wouldn't try'em just yet. You two have ta get used to each other. Learn how to walk and move all over again. I wouldn't recommend anything reckless until you have your footing and sensors calibrated."

"We'll see…"

"Now…" Bomber said, rubbing his hands together. "That the fact of saving your life has been addressed… the source of that signal. I'd be more than happy to check out what it was."

The Decepticons shared a skeptical silence. They were all anxious. Squeezeplay patted his patched-up middle. "Come." He pointed for the others to follow. "It cost a great deal to bring it here. We're all dying to see what we've brought."


	8. Chapter 8

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The dimly lit sickbay was like a tomb, the slab on which the body lay was like a sarcophagus, and the seven bots that surrounded the still life-form, examining with scurrying eyes… they were like the deceased king's high priests. They hovered over the metal body, looking over every groove and feature as though performing a funerary ritual, readying the body for embalming, the only difference being, it was an embalming in reverse.

Horri-Bull snorted. The comatose passenger resembled a mannequin, another miniature member to join their merry band. "So how do we wake him?"

Squeezeplay snapped his fingers. "Who says we should do that?"

"Frankly, I couldn't care less," Lokos said.

Even the other two Nebulons had trouble believing their receptors. Did Lokos really mean that?

He looked at them, resting his hands on the edges of the slab. "I mean it. Let's just dump it out the port airlock in space."

"You can't be serious," Bomber said. "This could be the find of a centennial cycle."

Lokos grounded his feet. His voice came out harsher. "Who cares. He's dead. We're just wasting time."

Fangry brought a digit to his chin. He was alarmed. "So we're just wasting time, is that it? Isn't he a Nebulon, like you?"

"No, we've been wasting time… with everything."

"I agree," Horri-Bull said with a wanting look in his eyes. "We should have left for Charr years ago."

Lokos shook his head. "I'm tired of all of it. The body, the team, this base, the leadership, the Decepticons. All of it."

Fangry's left eye crackled. Horribull snorted a silent black puff of smoke. Squeezeplay's muscles tightened.

"Who cares about this." He waved his hand over the lifeless shell. "I should've never joined you guys in the first place."

There was an odd light in Lokos's beady eyes. It was a reflected light coming from the slab. Their attention turned to the supine figure. A faint glow illuminated its optics. It was a sheen of black light over his black eyes, only darker. It was the first time, any had noticed, the body had been responsive.

Bomber shone a flashlight over the optics back and forth the way a medic would.

The eyes of the resting figure followed the gleam left to right and back.

Horri-Bull checked its pulse. The Nebulon was alive.

The violet passenger, who had lain dormant since removed from his icy capsule, now swiveled his head side to side and his joints creaked with locomotion. The others took a step back. Light glimmered in his optic visor, as he scanned the lab, passing his gaze over each of the Decepticons, Bomber and rested his vision on the readout data screens.

With difficulty, the stiff wrist lifted from its slab, and his black hand squeezed his fingertips together. Dust fell from his feeble hand. He tested the joints of his jaw before he spoke.

"Energon."

Then he pursed his lips into a pout, indicating his thirst.

The Decepticons were low on fuel. Their eyes roamed over each other wondering who would volunteer their share. Eventually, Bomber returned, holding a flask of the precious liquid.

The Nebulon took the flask and tilted the fuel back down his throat. It made dribbling noises as it flowed into his ancient body. He handed the flask back to Bomber. "More."

Bomber stayed where he was, frowning. "You got quite the thirst there, Purps. How 'bout we start with a friendly, universal greeting?"

"Where am I?"

Squeezeplay leaned toward the slab. The stranger turned his head toward him. "We found you on a planet of dead Nebulons. Your body was frozen inside a giant's corpse."

"Frozen? No… no." He lifted himself to a seated position and rotated his wrists to examine possible damage. Then he turned to gaze at the Nebulons, Brisko, Lokos and Kreb. "I placed myself in stasis."

"Then," Kreb said. "You're the one that sent that signal?"

The seated figure moved his hips, he stretched and bent all his rotators, bent his hip joints and knees and ankles. "Yes. I did. Our planet was attacked... I alone survived." He gave Kreb a judgmental glare. "I called for help."

"The data records, hombre," Bomber said, "indicate you were out thousands years on that rock. You're telling us you dumped yourself in that freezer? Inside the heart of a giant?"

The seated Nebulon nodded. "I suppose I should feel lucky. I thought I was a goner… I'd sent out that signal thousands of years ago. I guess it's better than being forgotten on that planet."

Horri-Bull nodded slowly. "What's your name?"

He glared back. "What's yours?"

"Horri-Bull."

The Nebulon smirked. "Is that a joke?"

"You want to go back in the fridge?" Horri-Bull leaned in. He pushed his chest against the Nebulon. The small bot nearly fell off the slab. "We could call you Pop-Sickle."

"Necro. My name's Necro."

Kreb and Brisko exchanged a look of disappointment. Then the others became silent. Horri-Bull blew several smoke rings in quiet contemplation. No one was sure what to make of the creature who had survived the scorched city. Other than being Nebulon, he seemed as out of place among them as a bright violet growing in a forest of cinders.

"What happened?" Horri-Bull asked. He wasn't going to ask again. His tone meant it.

Necro's visor became unfocused, with his gaze far away. "The way the morning began… before the gunfire and screams, I mean… was something I'd like to forget."

Those listening were silent.

Necro cocked his head to one side and twiddled his thumbs. "A violent sound came from all around… like being tossed in a giant grinding machine. I wanted to wake up at once, but I had the fear of opening my optics. I don't know if you've ever felt that way. When at last I left my chamber, I saw the sky. It was redder than I knew was possible. Fire streams fell through the sky, they landed on hyperion dwellings below the horizon. I saw, as a tower, a black form walking through the city streets. Dust surrounded it, a tornado spun around it made of buildings and trees." He turned to look at Fangry. "A monster made of metal, a giant of blackness with yellow eyes and it marched toward the city and from its mouth it shot out flames. It was a Titan."

The Nebulons listening didn't speak, but their joints squeaked noises like nervous storehouse mice and they crouched like retrocrabs back into their shells.

"It was a Titan and a monster and it was attacking… us. I don't know how or where it came from, but I ran as hard as I could." Necro looked down at his feet. "I went to find the shuttles. Someone had to be at the shuttles. If I stayed where I was, I'd be killed. When I made it to the landing platform, the shuttles were all gone. They hadn't left. They'd been torn in half. I saw the linings of their hulls cracked open like the rib cages of dying animals… and my colleagues were strewn about the wreckage in many pieces.

"I looked back one last time over my shoulder. I saw two giants in the field of rubble. Red dust and debris swirled around them. The monster on the left, and grappling it on the right, was the city's protector, it was the city's Titan, Caliban. He swung heavy arms, the size of oil tankers, around the monster's waist. The creature thrashed side to side, their movements knocked down city houses and refinery towers. The monster's heavy tail swung at Caliban and Caliban tumbled. Then, as he raised himself up, the monster opened its jaws and a flare of fire erupted from its mouth which struck Caliban, and Caliban fell. A ripple ran across the field; it rumbled towards me. When it struck, I fell back off my feet. A terrible noise reached my receptors. A huge shockwave, and a wall of sand, came and blew over me." He made a gesture with his hand. "Buried me up to me head. I don't remember much after that."

The Decepticons glanced at each other nervously before the purple Nebulon continued.

"When I had dug my way out, I don't know how much time had passed. I heard no more fighting. I saw no more guns firing, no more clouds of dust in the distance. I walked back to the city to see what had happened. I looked in every broken building I could find for anyone who might've been trapped. The ones that had been in the fighting, were broken and trampled over. None had survived. The bodies of the city people were missing. I don't know what happened to them. Then I found the body of Caliban and investigated him. His core had lost its spark, yet it had remained unbroken. I knew I wouldn't survive. I had nothing left. Instead, I used what was left to power a stasis pod from the medical building. I repaired our communications dish and sent out the distress signal. Then I sealed myself within the capsule. I shut the door… not knowing if it would open again.

"There were times while I slept… when I felt myself dreaming. I knew at times that I should wake and check to see if anyone had responded, but in my dreaming I told myself not to open my optics. I was afraid… if I left the chamber… that I'd find no one responded, and I'd become despondent and I didn't know if I could find myself brave enough… to walk back to the chamber again. Instead, I hoped with every ounce, as I had in my visions, that someone would come to my rescue… but that long sleep drained me. I felt safe in that capsule. And I dreamt for so long… Often, my hallucinations looked more real." Necro swiveled his head on his neck left to right and looked at each one of the listening bots in the eyes.

Bomber laid a hand over Necro's forehead. "I'll need to run full scans on you to see if you're damaged."

Necro made no reply.

The three Decepticons, Squeezeplay, Horri-Bull and Fangry folded their arms and huddled. Lokos heard them whispering. "What… that monster…" "How survived…" And Lokos decided it was he who should stay in the sick bay with Bomber.

The two remaining Nebulons, Brisko and Kreb, surreptitiously left the room and rounded the corner. Brisko didn't speak to him until they were in Kreb's quarters. "It has to be him. He's the one. The story's the same."

"No…" Kreb said. "You heard him, he says his name's Necro. That wasn't his name."

"He's lying. I'm sure it's him. We have a chance to kill him now."

Kreb looked at the floor. "But if we're wrong…"

"Then we lose nothing," Brisko said, twirling his pen.

"Doesn't seem right to kill someone after being half-dead for an eon."

"We'll die if we let him live."

Kreb shook his head. "We need to be sure. If we're wrong about this, then the others will think we killed him in his sleep. They'll think we've gone crazy. Then they might kill us."

Brisko nodded. That made sense. "The message… the code we found on the planet. We need to decrypt it. It'll provide the reason we assassinated him."

"Right. We'll know for sure. Hopefully there's evidence."

"Right. Let's find Slugfest."

"What do you think?" Fangry asked his partners. He and the other two were out of earshot of the others. He was feeling antsy enough that his yellow eye shot out a couple sparks.

"Makes my skin crawl," Horri-Bull said. "What is it?"

"Don't know." Squeezeplay cracked his neck joints. "Never heard of something like that. Well… it's an amusing story. Is it real?"

"Who knows." Fangry said as he rubbed his eye. "What do we do with him?"

Horri-Bull looked behind them. "Follow me."

He took them to the security room. And he called for Slugfest. The green lizard plodded toward him from under a refuse pile.

"What're you doing?" Squeezeplay asked him.

"I got an idea after we got back to the base. Slug-fest, play back the video foot-age you found."

Brisko sneered. "You let Slugfest spy on us?"

"The lit-tle whelps were act-ing weird. I want to know why. Do you like my idea?"

"Actually, Yes." Fangry said.

"Why don't you want to do the pro-cess?" Horri-Bull asked him, pointing at his modified head. "It didn't do me or Squeeze any harm."

"You must be joking. Me and one of those Nebulons? Joined together into some kind of monster?

The other two snickered.

Horri-Bull flicked on the silver switch to the monitor and a monochrome live-camera feed of the corridors played. Horri-Bull swapped through the channels. He searched all the main rooms. Kreb and Brisko were not found in the mess hall, nor the communications room. They were hiding somewhere. Something had caught the blue Decepticon's attention. He flicked back to the repair bay, and he watched. He watched Bomber examining Necro and writing in his data pad. He watched as Necro took the data pad and looked it over, then… when Bomber wasn't looking, Necro walked over to the console in the corner.

"What's this?" Horri-Bull asked. There was an unread message appearing on Slugfest's viewscreen, a digital display read, "4943454545524f434b534c4142530a." It came in not long ago. "Whose it from?"

Slugfest padded his paws together. "It came from Galvatron. Had the Decepticon High Command's seal over it and everything."

"You ne-ver told us about this. Did you read it?"

"Of course."

"What did it say?"

"Nothing important, I'm sure."

"What did it say?!" Horri-Bull demanded.

"Why do you want to know? So you can get rid of me? Huh? Is that it?"

"No one's planning to get rid of your paranoid parts, lizard-brain. Playback that message."

"I can't. It's been damaged."

The Decepticons cringed. "How?"

"I don't know." He squirmed anxiously, knocking canisters to the floor and spilled their contents.

"Great. Just great." Horri-Bull slammed the table with his right fist. "That might've been important."

Slugfest flipped over on his back. "Hold on a second." He wiggled his four small green paws in the air. "There's another message coming in right now!"

"Play it! Play it!" Horri-Bull and Squeezeplay said.

Slugfest pounced on the control deck and transformed into a green tape drive, plugging himself into the console and the vision screen blared a grainy electrostatic image of the Decepticon symbol. The three Decepticons' joints wheeled noisily as they stood to full attention. It had been years since a message like that had been received by them. The fuzzy image of the Decepticon command was replaced a microsecond later by a broadcast image of Galvatron speaking directly to the camera.

"Greetings, my fellow Decepticons."

Squeezeplay's optics brightened. "It's him."

"If you're receiving this signal it means you're in the vicinity of an all-hands order. This is my command: follow the encoded coordinates soon to be transmitted to you. I need every able-bodied Decepticon to converge at this location. Further instructions to follow. Those who arrive will be overseen by a field commander who'll accept your encrypted code. There are two messages. Alpha and… Omega. The type of message determines your location. Should any of my… brave… Decepticon warriors choose not to appear… well… that just means they won't share in the spoils. Galvatron out."

"This is it!" Horri-Bull pounded the console with his fist. Slugfest was bounced on his back. He transformed back into stegosaurus mode, with his little green feet waggling in the air. "Watch it, lummox!"

"This is our chance!" Horri-Bull said.

Fangry sneered, folding his arms. "I don't like it. It doesn't add up. Why'd Galvatron ask _us_?"

Horri-Bull was already examining his pistol for possible defects. "Who cares, don't you want to leave this rock?"

"I do," Squeezeplay said. "But only so we can find Repugnus, Grotusque and Doublecross again. I've got a score to settle." He snapped his purple fingers.

Across the hall, they heard a loud metallic squeak. The communications door room had been opened.

"Who's there?" Horri-Bull demanded.

"Did I hear right? You guys heading off on a mission?"

Horri-Bull peered around the corner. He saw Bomber halfway across the threshold. The chicken smiled, he stroked his red comb. "It'll be a great opportunity to study your new battle prowess."

Horri-Bull turned to Squeeze and Fang again.

"Now, now." Bomber said. "I'm not much a fan of the secret huddle. You guys gotta be more square with me from now on, savvy? What's the deal anyway? Your team is more spooked than a herd of bisonicons. What gives?"

"For starters," Fangry said, "Until a cycle ago, you were working for our enemies."

"Only cause they'd be the only ones willin' to come on my exploration. I'll take anybody so long as it helps my research."

"Which is why we don't trust you," Fangry said. "You're a liability on KFC legs."

"He's right though, Fang." Squeeze said. "We should clear the air. Little bots been weird lately. They don't trust that purple guy." He raised a brow at Bomber. "Know anything 'bout him?"

"Not as much as I'd like."

The chicken looked at Squeeze and Squeeze looked at Horri-Bull who in turn cast a sideways glance at Fangry. None of them made sound. It was getting uncomfortable. Then one of them had enough.

"I say, we get to the co-ord-in-ates, then we go our sep-arate ways," Horri-Bull said. "You go one way, us three will go an-other, and the lit-tle guys can…"

"You just going to decide for the rest of us?" Fangry said. Several yellow sparks shot from his optic.

"Do you agree?"

He put the question out there, so it lingered in mid-air. Then the bots looked at each other once again. And the decision, they knew would be made one way or another.


	9. Chapter 9

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Space Station Atropos– Near the planet, Aquaeaus Defuego:

Several layers of oil-sweat and fruity vapor fume stank in the air. A fat brass instrumentalist played his third piece for the evening. A tall, silver and violet Decepticon wrapped his metal fingers before the barista. A chilled shot glass of glowing, pink liquid klinked on the bar. Octane picked it up and downed the contents.

Octane made several expressions, none of which looked pleased.

"How is it?" The bartender asked.

"Not bad," Octane said. "Could use more nitro though, feels like it breaks up at the end."

"In that case. You should try this stuff." The bartender ducked down and retrieved a black-labeled bottle.

"You weren't being clear with me?"

The portly bartender wriggled his copper mustache. "Hey, buddy, no offense, but muh first impression of you three waz pretty low." He pointed to Octane's comrades.

Black Shadow lurked in the corner, flirting with a fembot floozy. "Listen baby, I've heard that bad joke before. Greatshot's great… but enough about him. You ever see a bot that can be both a jet and a tank? The turret's pretty big."

The female sipped her yellow energon. "I've seen Blitzwing's."

Black Shadow pouted.

Under the Magwa broadcast screen, clear on the other side of the room, their third partner, Full-Tilt sat nursing his drink. He closed his datapad, sighing.

Black Shadow sauntered toward him. "Our mark's right where we thought he'd be. Camped out in Aquaeaus Defuego. That dim little lady only needed the third drink before her mouth started running like a Pheton Jacker."

Full-Tilt nodded. He reclined in his olive booth seat. "Irrelevant."

Black Shadow pushed aside the datapad, setting his drink on it. "You've been feeling drained for a while now, home boy. Time to get more involved in the action, less time checking data logs."

Full-Tilt avoided eye contact.

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink." He pointed his black finger between Full-Tilt's visor.

Full-Tilt shook his head at Black Shadow. "I'm not doing the dirty work on this one."

"The hell you aren't." Black Shadow's voice came out cold.

Full-Tilt turned away from Black Shadow's gaze. "As though you know anything about Hell." Black Shadow sneered; he left for the bar, leaving his drink on the table. Full-Tilt moved it off the datapad.

Octane approached the booth holding two sizzling fountain drinks. Black Shadow shoulder bumped him as they walked past each other. "Hey!"

Octane managed to spill very little. He sat across the booth's table. "There a bear at his backdoor?"

Full-Tilt stared at the sizzling liquid in both cups. Octane was alright. But his cheeriness could get annoying. Full-Tilt reached for one of them. A screw fell out of his wrist. They both stared at it. Full-Tilt picked it up to look it over. "I told him to shove it."

"The last one was a little rough on you. He didn't go down easy."

"Damn near broke my arm," Full-Tilt said. "My account looked rather light too."

Octane took a nervous sip. "It was split three-ways." He took another and hoped the conversation would take a different turn. "You heard anything about this new guy, Zarack?"

Full-Tilt shook his head.

"Thought maybe Galvatron would want him bumped to the side-lines already."

Full-Tilt's single red optic sensor stared back, unblinking. "Repair isn't cheap. I'm going to need a bigger cut on this one."

Octane smirked. "Try relaying that to him."

Full-Tilt gazed across the smoky room. In the opposite corner, Black Shadow was talking to a new girl, but between chuckles and sips, he would glare back at Full-Tilt.

Octane and Full-Tilt looked back at each other. Octane smirked again. Full-Tilt showed no emotion and Octane was sick of it. He left the table as well.

It was all well and good. Full-Tilt opened the data pad again. He needed to double-check and even triple-check. He just couldn't believe it. There, in blue and green pixels, was the message he had waited forever for. It was a message coded just right, meant only for him to discover. He had run viral scanners over the message several times. It appeared authentic. If true, then it was genuine message from him.

He closed the data pad. His circuits trembled with excitement. He had the coordinates. He sapped the last juice in the cup and left through the back of the bar.

The dim back alley had no light fixture. It led to where their space cruiser was parked. If he were to make off with it, he needed to decide fast. Black Shadow would be alright, and if it were revealed later that bounty hunters had caught him stranded at a half-way decent joint that served Nitro-infused energon, all the better. Octane on the otherhand… there were times that 'Con didn't seem cut out for life on the run.

There was a can rattle behind him. Full-Tilt reached for his pistol and turned around. He felt the force of a sledgehammer smash across his face.


	10. Chapter 10

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Tricounty City was wedged between Oregon and Washington, its southern side dipped into the bay that connected the western edge to the Pacific. It was the sort of city where construction was always under way, new skyscrapers rising all the time, and places like Lou's Collectables and Estella's Pies had gone by the wayside. Leinad was impressed with the city's gleaming towers but had yet to understand why Rodimus and Arcee liked the humans so much. They were inefficient, noisy and clumsy. They honked at each other in the streets as though they were enemies. A constant noise buzzed in the air, all of the television signals, radio waves and smog blended together into a choking miasma that put the humans into dreamy, incognitive states. They constantly needed sugar drinks just to stay functional. From the street's sidewalk she watched the drone of Channel 6's news broadcast displayed in an HD TV behind a Radioshack store window. Mayor Bloom, dressed in a spiffy marine blazer, held a coffee interview with a reporter named Sally. Their conversation revolved around the mayor's recent city developments, over which Sally asserted there were heavy criticisms. Mayor Bloom deflected the questions, stating that much of the infrastructure of the growing metropolis had come from new age techno-construction methods inspired by the Transformers. The city's low-cost high-rise buildings were the result of brilliant design and cheaper materials. The waterfront, in particular, was an efficient industrial area comprised of refineries and power plants. Mayor Bloom's smug smile was something Leinad found repulsive. She had the strange unbridled sense someone needed to punch his face. His slimy smile crawled under his nose.

A harsh, grating sound came behind her. Walking down the block towards her was a girl about fourteen years old speaking on a handheld device. It was a rectangle they called a cell phone. This girl had a thing wrong with her voice—the locals called the phenomenon vocal fry. She was announcing her conversation so loudly, one couldn't bear but listen to her gossip. "My gosh, Mel, so like, I told Dustin to wait for me outside the movies and he went off with Samantha. Can you believe it? What a dipshit. Can't believe Dustin would do that. Samantha is such trash… I mean I know she's, like, my best friend and all, but she's still such trash." The girl approached, squishing by, croc shoes on the pavement. Ahead of her, a toy poodle with frizzy white fur led the way, panting loudly while dragging, her owner, a tall platinum blonde hidden behind two layers of mascara and round-rimmed sunglasses. The woman held her poodle steady on a thin black leash. Leinad noticed that slung under her arm was a fragrant cup of hot caffeine bean soup.

Arcee passed a display window for a fashion shop. A female mannequin flaunted a violet broad-rimmed hat with a flower inside the band. Arcee brought her fingertips to her scalp, then slowly they came down to her neck where her fingers examined the joints and machinery to her shoulders.

Rodimus noticed Leinad had trailed behind. "What's wrong Leinad?"

"The chair stopped." She said. Leinad was in the process of getting used to her new hover chair. Like a wheelchair, it allowed her to move about and it had a hover-base on the bottom which let the chair glide around, levitating a couple inches off the ground.

Rodimus examined the back of the red hover-chair. The indicator light showed the charge needed to be replaced. "Where's the spare battery?" he asked her. He found a baby-blue backpack with brown leather straps in a compartment.

Leinad nodded.

Rodimus knelt down as he searched the backpack. "you know Leinad, a lot of Nebulons like you have unique abilities."

Leinad said nothing.

Rodimus had yet to find the battery. "Do you know if you have some sort of ability? A power that others don't?" He paused when his hands felt something hard and pointy. Retrieved from the blue backpack, Rodimus pulled out something unusual.

It was a red toy… an action figure. Rodimus recognized the red robot body and face. The action figure was made to look like himself. Leinad had been carrying a Rodimus action figure. He looked at Leinad. Where had she gotten this? Then he placed it carefully back inside. The toy had been well taken care of. There was not a scratch on any of the plastic.

"You find it?" Leinad asked without turning around.

"Oh… yes. Here it is." Rodimus fished out the red cube and plugged it into the chair. The lights changed on the indicator on the panel behind Leinad's head and the hover-chair jostled forward. Leinad wheeled herself over to Arcee, leaving Rodimus.

He saw Arcee take Leinad's hand and walk with her down to the next store front. Rodimus saw in the window a reflection of himself staring back. He saw behind the reflection two male mannequins. One had baggy pants, a hat that was tilted backwards and sneakers that looked gigantic. He looked like a typical human adolescent. Standing next to him was a figure, almost statuesque, poised with a humble brown windbreaker, black slacks and heeled business shoes that had the reminder of business cowboy boots. This mannequin was standing like the statue of David in a way, staring back with an edgy determination. And Rodimus' reflection was caught between the two mannequins.

"Excuse me, can I take a picture?" Leinad turned around. A young human man, gelled brown hair and lips like the statue of liberty, had snuck up on her. He pointed to Leinad, Hot Rod and Arcee, indicating he wished to photograph himself with all three. Leinad didn't have time to protest. The young man swiveled the camera around and took a backwards photo of himself with the Autobots behind him. "This'll make a cool story, Bro." He extended his fist towards Hot Rod. Hot Rod didn't understand what a fist bump was, but he stooped and let the boy bonk his knuckles against his hard metal fist. "Ouch!" He said in jest. "That is fire." He then jumped on a scooter and veered away. The three Autobots looked at each other, perplexed.

It was a nice idea of you to take me and Leinad to see this city, Rodimus," Arcee said. "But wouldn't this distract you from your duties?"

Rodimus waved a hand as though to shoo away the idea. "Not at all, there's plenty who can pick up the slack… I did take the modifications that Highbrow recommended, just in case."

"Rodimus, are you feeling alright?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"Seems like you're avoiding talking about your feelings." Arcee pouted. She folded her arms. "I miss them to."

"Who?"

"Our friends." A dark cloud passed overhead. "Ratchet, Wheeljack, Huffer… Ironhide. They would've been so happy to see a day like this."

Rodimus brought his hands together. "Yes. I… know." "I've been wanting to do something to remember them by. It's not the same without them… Being with Spike, I got the idea we should do something like a memorial for them."

"Something to remember them by."

"Exactly."

"You should do it for them, but not because you felt guilty that you're alive when they aren't."

"Arcee…"


	11. Chapter 11

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The mortar alley behind the tavern rocked side to side, a floating night-bar bobbing up and down eternally in outer space. The ringing sound was painful and he covered his receptors with a hand. He couldn't turn his neck. Something had snapped. He began to see the fuzzy outline of a tall Decepticon, or at least the shadow of one. The figure was swayed back and forth with his vision, but he recognized the upturned horns of that helmeted head. It was Black Shadow, looming over him.

Black Shadow kept saying something, but Full-Tilt's hearing was still bad. That ringing was drilling into his mind like an electrostatic worm, at least his vision had ceased spinning. Full-Tilt sat upright; he kept his hand covering his left receptor where he felt the scrape of where he had been struck in the side of the head. Black Shadow kept thrusting an accusatory finger at him, he was shouting, but Full-Tilt couldn't understand.

"What is it? I can't hear you."

Black Shadow lumbered forward, he swung his right foot behind him and then drove it forward. The impact with Full-Tilt's chest sent the 'Con flying backwards. He slammed into the damp mortar wall and fell back on the concrete floor. The kick had knocked something else loose. His vision was still spinning. At least he could hear now.

"You know, I've worked with better scumbags than you," Black Shadow said. "At least they weren't stupid enough to try and take a gunman's starship."

"That's because nobody wants that piece of trash." Full-Tilt raised his head. His blaster had come loose, it was just a few feet away on the moist ground. He might be able to reach it.

"Allow me to show you the difference between trash and those superior to it." Shadow slammed he foot on Full-Tilt's hand. It seemed he figured Full-Tilt would go for that. The pain seared all the way up his arm. Next thing he knew, he was being pulled off the ground by a powerful, black hand.

"Octane!" Black Shadow yelled. Their partner was in the back of the alley, watching. "Toss me the key. We're leaving. I just have to throw some stuff out we no longer need." Black Shadow dragged Full-Tilt behind the thrusters of the ship where no one could see them. The starcruiser was set on a trigger switch to jettison in a hurry. Full-Tilt's hearing came back. He heard the jingling keys ringing through the air. Black Shadow caught them in his free hand. His other hand held Full-Tilt collar. Full-Tilt rocked on unsteady legs.

The lack of screams and begs for mercy appeared to annoy him. Black Shadow pulled him close to be in his face. "I was gonna give you till after DeFuego before I cut you loose. Wasn't sure if you were cut out to be one of my partners. Guess I was wrong." He took the keys and pressed the warm up button on the transceiver. "Don't worry, Full-Tilt."

Full-Tilt raised his head up weakly, just enough to look at Black Shadows eyes.

"You're not a total waste. I'm sure the price on your head will be worth something at least. More than you will ever accomplish."

"Ever since we met…" Full-Tilt said. "I've wanted to shut that mouth of yours up. You're all talk and no brains."

"Brains enough to be a step ahead of you."

Full-Tilt chuckled. "You've been two steps behind the whole time." He gripped the key transceiver in Black Shadow's grip and pressed the ignition button. They both heard the starter engine. Black Shadow froze. Full-Tilt tore himself from his hand and hit the ground fast. The starcruiser's engines blasted a nozzle of blaze five meters back.

Full-Tilt covered his head with both hands. He reached for the keys on the ground, found the transceiver and flicked the ignition button. The exhaust shooting from the back of the cruiser roared to a low a rumble before they flickered out. The smell of cindered fuel choked the back alley. Full-Tilt pushed aside the black smoke until his hand found his pistol on the ground. He heard the sound of crumbling blocks in the corner. Black Shadow's body had blown through the mortar wall, leaving a smoldering pile of fallen brick.

Octane came running around the corner. "Shadow, you copy?" He spun around. Full-Tilt took the butt of his pistol and slammed it between Octane's optics. And Octane blacked out.

The Junkion spacecraft was gloomy thing, Necro thought. He had explored several of its tight chambers when no one else would bother him. The confines felt cramped as he turned the corners, sort of like being inside an ammonite shell. This shuttle had an annoying rumble, a subtle vibration which made Necro wonder if the ship would lose a screw and come apart in space. The hollow echoes of its interior made it seem the ship were welded-together trash flitting between star systems.

When Lokos cornered Necro, he found him in the hall.

Then Necro stepped not another inch more. Lokos stood when Necro spotted him. Necro realized he no longer heard the rumble nor the echo. Because of acoustic-jamming walls, neither could hear the harsh rumble of the rocket engine, but Lokos understood that outside, in space, the rocket's skin was just as quiet, horribly quiet as it was in the hall. The purple bot looked without turning his head. Lokos had his right arm hidden behind his body, and it would be fitting if a pistol was waiting behind his rear right hip. It could all be over if he wanted to.

There was something unusually delightful in seeing the stunned look appear on Necro's face. He had no idea if Lokos were armed or not. In his mind, both universes existed, one where Lokos was lying in wait to put the cartridge in his metal skull, and the other where Lokos was the friendly, unassuming Nebulon. It surprised him when Necro spoke, shattering the false world of silence.

"I've been looking for a data pad."

Lokos glared at him. He was staring at the spot between Necro's eyes.

"So many years have passed," Necro said.

Lokos nodded.

"I wanted to catch myself up on all the current events. Bomber said a recent article on Egypt has all the Cybertronians chatting. Do you think you could get me one?"

Lokos had no idea what to say. The question was as arresting as it was ridiculous. In the short hallway, there were no side exits—nowhere else either could either could go except forward. It was like being in the belly of a whale.

Lokos slouched, he traced his finger over the steel wall in a coy way. "Hungry?"

Necro paused. Was this a trap? The minimal light coming behind Lokos didn't reveal his expression to Necro. He wasn't hungry. "Yes."

Lokos nodded. He pivoted on the heel of his right foot, acting like a door and waited for Necro to walk past him. Necro's back would be to him. Necro looked at Lokos' eyes. Lokos relaxed, tracing the wall with his finger.

Necro stepped toward him, ringing his purple knuckles against the steel wall. Advancing slowly toward Lokos, he spotted the hand hiding behind Lokos. His right arm was out of view. Necro felt his wrists, the sore groan they made when he moved them, metal which hadn't been lubricated for thousands of years. His knees felt like they were about to shatter. They hadn't held his weight in so long. It felt like he was trapped in a protoform's body. If he were to attempt to knock down Brisko, it was almost guaranteed he'd lose.

"Which way?"

Lokos tilted his head over his right shoulder and indicated the hall open to the right.

Necro focused. He clutched his chest… and remembered what stayed stowed inside and realized the risk. So that when he walked past Brisko, he stared him straight in the eyes.

The mess hall was a cramped little refuge with no light. Only the lamps over the fridgeration unit and the canisters lit the room, thus the corners stayed steeped in shadows. The smell of lifted dust was palpable, the same sort one finds after the first rain on stone, or the chalky recesses of a crypt. Their footsteps disturbed the drinking bird toy which had been left on the counter and it bobbed down to slurp some water from a petri-dish.

Lokos opened the fridge. "We have some premium energon in here. Chilled to near nitro levels." He placed a glowing cylinder on the counter. "I bet you must be… famished."

Necro took his eyes off the canister. Lokos' expression was lacking every ounce of warmth or humor. "I find myself feeling less of an appetite."

"Really?" Lokos pulled up a chair for Necro and shoved it toward him. Brisko sat in the one opposite. "But you've been in there for years. I'm sure your appetite's enormous."

Necro chuckled nervously. He traced a circle around the lid of the cylinder. "I've already had my fill of chilly things."

"Heh." Lokos slicked the back of his head with his left hand. It was a dead fit of laughter.

"Besides," Necro said, seeing the rivers of disdain flowing from Lokos' eyes. "When you've already tried the best… nothing else compares."

"The metal on your skin wasn't always this shade. I can see how age removed the blue." Brisko leaned forward, his chair squeaking, and his face so much closer to Necro's. "Can you guess what makes a treacherous Nebulon?"

Necro shook his head.

"Nebulons already have it so hard. In a universe so big, that for a Nebulon to betray their own… betrayed to something larger than themselves… that's not monstrous. It's something worse than monstrous."

Necro stared at the floor.

"I'm sure you've heard of that Titan Master…" Lokos continued, "Reviled by the rest. I can't figure out, for all my spark… why would someone do something like that."

Necro nodded. "You realize, all this might have taken place while I was entombed in ice. But this Titan Master doesn't sound like the thing you described. Perhaps— You know… I've been away for so long… and the dreams I've had… Sometimes I feel they were large dreams, as though I dreamt a whole universe… Being trapped like that might've done somethings to the mind. When you've dreamt as long as I have… and stayed there… you question if you've really come back."

He rapped his knuckles on the counter. "Feels real, but… I have seen things in my visions that are so large and inspiring that it makes everything else pale…"

Lokos shook.

"When you've savored morsels of the sublime subconscious… you develop a taste for things unseen. And I could swear…"

There was a noise. A trickle dribbled out of the water pipe.

"…There can never be anything as good."

Lokos bristled.

"Think you have authority to judge? Go a mile… go a millennia in someone else's shoes… and what you fear might be true, could be true… you might find… you see it the same way… Who knows? Your taste might be better."

Lokos and Necro shared an unpleasant stare across the counter. Lokos cracked open the canister, exposing the hiss of the bubbling energon. He drank it halfway down and slid the rest across the counter so that Necro caught it in his rusty left hand.

Necro looked at Lokos' arm, still hidden behind the chair, then he relaxed and cocked his head to one side, shrugging and drank from the canister. When he finished, he popped the can on the table and left a long ringing sound echo in the mess hall. And each stared into the other's eyes for what seemed an eternity before the light switch was heard flicking.

"Ho.. Ho… What's this, now?" Horri-Bull lumbered into the hall. He pried open the fridge door to take a canister for himself. "Takes on-ly a few cy-cles for you to warm up. Now look at you. Best friends al-ready." He chortled.

Horri-Bull couldn't figure out why, after he had sat down next to them, why Nebulons always got so quiet. Disagreeable and secretive beings to the end.


	12. Chapter 12

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The spinning lights dimmed. Octane shook his head. He had a splitting headache which prompted him to rub his dome. He sensed an engine rumbling under his chair. Where was he? Slowly, the hazy image of Full-Tilt came into focus; he was piloting the starship. Octane had been set into the passenger's seat. No sign of Black Shadow.

"You're awake, I see."

"Full-Tilt. What's going on?"

Full-Tilt gazed at the rear-view on-screen monitor and flicked through a half dozen other cameras. Whatever Full-Tilt was looking for was not showing up. "I had to bring you with me," he said.

The cold realization that he had been knocked out and taken onboard dawned on him. Full-Tilt was half the size of Octane, but had managed to smuggle him unconscious into the cockpit of the starship.

He looked at the cargo camera and spun his upper torso to look behind the two cockpit chairs. The hallway of the ship was empty.

"Relax. You're making me uneasy," Full-Tilt said. His gravelly, monotone voice was menacing even when he offered words of comfort.

Octane spun around to gaze forward again. His mind was speeding as fast as the starship was zooming past gas clouds. There was no point fighting back, it seemed. All he could do was look out the viewport at the approaching constellations and planets.

Neither of the two bothered to look at each other and they spent the hour gazing out of the view window at dense black nothingness. When Full-Tilt grew tired of the silence he tuned in the audio driver. A jazzy song—an annoying lone trumpet—broke up the despised deafness.

Had Full-Tilt finally cracked? Octane avoided eye contact at all costs. Perhaps he was going to sell Octane off to the pirates he owed money to. There were plenty of unscrupulous types who would be eager to bring in Octane's bounty. Octane thought back; Full-Tilt couldn't be going back to Charr, the Decepticons' Home 20. Full-Tilt had been marked as a criminal—He had been thrown in the penitentiary and later escaped. There's no way Full-Tilt would be heading back to Charr. "Where are you taking me?" Octane asked.

Full-Tilt stared back at him through his V-shaped visor. His crimson optics cut like a sinister laser through steel. "We're going to Earth."

The thought of deserts, rivers and oil rigs oozed into Octane's mind. "Why?"

Full-Tilt stretched to reach the open data file and closed it like a clam shell. He didn't answer.

Beads of oil trickled down Octane's silver face. He thought frantically, trying to discern Full-Tilt's intent. Full-Tilt had been in prison before. Was this the reason for his rash actions? Had the bears tracked him down? Why would Earth be a better place to go now? The radio station had changed songs, it now played "The wheel of fire." As the ball and chain decoration swung back and forth from the overhead console, Octane couldn't help but remember times on Earth hauling oil on the big road through the Lost Wages desert. The decoration was like a miniature mint air freshener and the tunes coming from the radio brought the mind to dust clouds and late-night truck diners. It made the gap between Octane and Full-Tilt that much more awkward.

"I'd have considered you one of those not on my list, you know…" Octane said in a low voice. "…Before you Shanghai'd me."

Any second, it felt like they should pull over the nearest steller offramp and pull up to refuel. They'd be illuminated by the glow of a neon 7-Eleven sign with a burned-out "E" and see glistened Icees and mouth-popping Rockslabs in the window. Across the intersection would be a midnight truck diner where you could ask for jacks and joe at eleven p.m.

Full-Tilt cocked his head to one side. The features of his head, with the covered mouth plate and V-shaped slit he viewed from, gave him the appearance of a human knight with a purple helmet. "Aren't you tired of this war?" he asked.

Octane stared to the side, the emergency controls were locked. He pointed his audio receptor toward Full-Tilt.

"Just the same thing over and over again?" Full-Tilt gripped the steering with both hands. The ball and chain cast stark shadows over his metal hands. "No one's going to survive it… you realize that, haven't you? That's why you're always playing on the sidelines." He traced his fingers over the steel console. "Same thing, over and over again. Every damn millennia. I told myself way back then… if I ever stopped caring, the universe would claim me. Chew me up and spit me out."

Octane slouched on his right arm, feeling the arm rest under his bulk.

"That's what happens. You stop caring, the universe claims you." He saw a decimated star on the starboard side. The traces of gas clouds were all that was left of a star system. Bits of rock and particles drifted aimlessly. "One or the other. There's no other way about it. I decided I want to survive. Do you know what that means?" He turned to look at Octane.

Octane sensed his red visor looking at the side of his face. He continued staring forward, but he watched Full-Tilt from the corner of his optics.

"How do you think this all plays out?" Full-Tilt said. "It means you watch everything around you smolder and die. That's what that means." They sped the star cruiser through the gas cloud into an empty part of space. "You live long enough, you watch the universe extinguish itself... one spark at a time. This war is so utterly meaningless. The universe will collapse in on itself."

"And you think you're going to outsmart it?" Octane said. "Saw the light at the end of the tunnel? You think you can play it so you come out of this alive?"

"I'm counting on it. Otherwise… I might as well put a bullet in my brain right now..." A cold sigh rattled his metal cords. "I'm going to survive… to watch the universe kill itself."

For the next hour, neither bot spoke another word to each other. Octane made no move, he thought to look around for a large enough pipe to beat Full-Tilt with. He wouldn't kill him, but he should at least get back at him for the dent on his head from earlier. Obviously, Octane's return to Earth would put him in harm's way. There were too many looking for him. He'd have to hide low.

"Why'd you need me for?"

"When we get to Earth, you can do whatever, but I need your help finding someone."


	13. Chapter 13

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They turned the corner of the block and waited for the crossing sign to change. Leinad saw the image of a red turkey insignia change into the symbol of a twisted white tree branch. The others gestured it was safe for her to move her hover chair onto the street. As they crossed, several cars blared their horns at Leinad. She stopped halfway and looked at the vehicles. A surly driver stuck his head out the window of a red semi-truck and made a rude gesture. "Go back home to Cybertron, refrigerator freaks!" The other cars at the intersection honked in return, bolstering the trucker's statements. Leinad felt dizzy. She moved to the sidewalk.

Arcee knelt down. Her blue eyes glistened. "Leinad?"

She stared at the hard concrete.

"Leinad, what is it?"

"The humans hate me."

Rodimus shook his head. "They don't hate you, Leinad. They don't know anything about what a wonderful person you are."

"Then why do they say things like that?"

Rodimus knelt alongside Arcee. "We can look scary to humans. Sometimes, people are afraid of what they don't understand and they get angry. People have bad days and when they're angry, well… sometimes they like to pick on people they think won't fight back."

"They're cowards." Leinad said.

"Give them some time." Rodimus said. "They're not all bad."

A marine blue corvette pulled up to the sidewalk next to them. Its black window rolled down. Leinad could see inside. There was a human inside with a slimy grin. She recognized him from the television.

"Nice day for a roll, ain't it?"

"You're Mayor Bloom," Arcee said.

"Right, my dear." He pulled down his sunglasses and leaned forward, revealing vaulted eyebrows like Jack Nicholson. "Listen. I think you guys might be a little lost. I saw you walking around. Ain't a lot of gas stations around here. That's what you drink, isn't it?"

Shadows appeared under Rodimus brow. "A pleasure to see you, Mayor Bloom. Your city's growing at an exponential rate. I'm sure it helps to have an Autobot engineer around." Then he turned his attention to Arcee and Leinad. "The Protectobot team's helping relations between Earthlings and Cybertronians. They're providing aid to Tricounty City."

Bloom scoffed. "If you say so. The world's changing, we all have to adapt, don't we?" He stared at Leinad. "Whether we like it or not."

Leinad froze.

Arcee placed a firm hand on Leinad's shoulder. "Is there something you wish to say to us, Mr. Bloom?"

Her tone cut deep, you could see it reflected in Bloom's eyes. "I never voted to keep you in this country. I never voted to keep you on this planet. But if I had it my way, We'd keep all of you on Cybertron and leave all the humans on Earth. That's the way things should be."

The Autobots cast looks of scorn at him, still with shock.

"I don't want you here making a scene. City does fine without you. I don't need the publicity that this is some Autobot haven. You come here, drink our gas and go. I don't want to see you past sundown. Got it?" His eyes settled on Leinad.

Rodimus and Arcee looked at each other, then looked at Bloom. That coy smile spread over the whole of Rodimus's face.

He turned to Leinad and Arcee, noticing their hurt. Then he made a gesture to Arcee for her to follow his lead. Rodimus strolled around the fender, squared up against the front of the mayor's car, while Arcee stepped up behind the trunk. They squatted and grabbed the underside of the car and lifted the vehicle off the pavement. Leinad watched as a screaming mayor was lifted along with his marine-blue car above the Autobots' heads. Rodimus and Arcee gently placed the car on the roof of the flower shop next door. The two smirked at each other.

The mayor's face appeared above the edge of the rooftop, red as a ripe tomato, shouting several four-letter words at them, which prompted Rodimus, Arcee and Leinad to stroll off, each of them laughing.

"Why didn't you just treat him like a Decepticon?" Leinad asked. "He was so much smaller, you could have squished him like a bug."

Arcee warmly replied. "You can't just do that because your feelings are hurt. Human or Decepticon. And you can't hurt mayors very often no matter how much you want to." She looked at Rodimus. "Sometimes you have to be more clever to handle situations. The mayor wasn't hurting us, but he wasn't nice."

"How long do you think it'll be before he can get his car down from that roof?" Rodimus asked her. He smiled appreciatively.

"Oh, I don't know," Arcee said. "But he can hang up there for a while, he needed a time-out." She winked an optic at Rodimus. "Didn't you have a meeting at the Ark today?"

"I left someone else in charge. Thought it would do some good to be out here." He looked from Arcee to Leinad.

Leinad found a patient corgi sitting upright outside a café. Its leash was tied around a post.

"It's okay, you can pet him, gently," Arcee said.

Leinad was afraid, she brought a trembling hand above the corgi's snout. She had a feeling it would snarl or bite at her. Instead, the dog brought its curious nose to Leinad's hand and sniffed, then the little dog, like a well-groomed soldier, stood straight, and bowed its head. She got her wish, her fingers stroked the sesame-brown fur softly. It was a welcome feeling. Arcee smiled then she moved herself out of Leinad's earshot and dragged Rodimus with her.

She stared at his blue optics. "This was a good idea to bring her."

"I can see that," he said.

"I'm thinking of finishing the bonding process with her."

The thought of Leinad attached to Arcee's head mushroomed in Rodimus' mind. "But Arcee—"

She didn't let him finish. "I've already decided. She needs help… she needs someone she can depend on."

Rodimus stepped back. Arcee had been holding his chest. "I'm not sure if we should…"

He stopped when he saw Leinad staring at the two of them. "Yes, Leinad?"

"Is that beast an Ick-Yak?" She was pointing at the corgi. "It's not as big as Kup made it seem."

Rodimus chuckled. "Kup can be overdramatic." A sudden gust made Rodimus shudder. It blew the dead leaves out of a street tree. Rodimus looked up and saw a violet aircraft passing rather low over the city. It didn't resemble an Earth plane. "That almost looks like… wait a minute." He looked through his binocular visor and spotted what he needed to. It shook him to the core. It was a Decepticon ship.

The aircraft swooped over Rodimus and the others. Inside the cockpit, Galvatron smirked. It was too perfect, he had found Optimus's successor at the center of the metropolis.

"Good work, Cyclonus. You've found Prime's matrix bearer. I'll leave it to you." He took the communicator in his hands. "Constructicons, are you in position?"

Beneath the worming subway lines, in a sub-terrain cave, Galvatron's Constructicon team paused their digging when a beacon alerted them. Scrapper turned on the direct communication line. "Awaiting your orders, Galvatron." Scrapper said. The cavern shaft's lights gleamed over the Constructicons.

"Commence Operation Trifold."

"You got it." Scrapper nodded to Hook whose hand was already in position on the red initiation levers. Both pulled their twin levers downward until they locked in the obverse position.

There was a surge of electricity as gears started grinding. The cavern filled with a cacophony of meshing metal.

On the city streets, a businessman toppled over, as an earthquake jostled his leather briefcase from his grip, and the lock snapped open, scattering dozens of papers about the pavement. You could hear the people's screams.

"Jessica. Something's happening!"

"Gregory!"

A small bookstore swayed from side to side, its canopy flapping violently. Mustard-colored umbrellas hurled over the power lines as a woman lost her shoes to scramble for her four-year old daughter—their tangled blonde hair getting lost behind falling signs and bricks. A fire hydrant rocketed upward, it was jettisoned by a geyser of water. A rusted, yellow traffic signal crashed near the mother and her daughter. The street cracked in several places. Steam hissed out of the cracks, as it blew motorcycles over. A red ambulance went screaming down the road, before it tumbled into a newly opened pit. A construction worker abandoned his jackhammer when the skyscrapers next to him, two tall steel towers, rumbled towards each other. The towers squeezed the gap between them and every pedestrian caught between the two edifices disappeared along with the road that had once separated them. Seven other high-rises descended to the ground. The ground floor fell beneath the street level. You could see the people trapped in the highest floor, shouting from their windows. Some were banging on them so hard, that smears had been left on the windows. The people, along with the suites they lived in, sank into the earth. At the waterfront, the oil refineries moved about on rotating platforms. One end of the waterfront sank under the bay, the waves pounded against riveted metal. The other end raised higher than the bay bridge and folded over itself. The streets folded like accordions, and buildings compressed against each other. The freeways turned like snakes and connected end to end as school buses and range rovers tumbled off their ramps. A towering black shape emerged. The ocean sea dripped from its hull. Its long tail snapped off the freeway and two massive legs lifted its body from the ground.

To Leinad, it appeared as if the city had reared up on two hind legs, carrying the towers and freeway ramps with it. Underneath the city a black machine of Cybertronian construction had been hiding, an alien mesh of machinery, like a fuming locomotive. It lifted the city onto its back and folded it in half, the two ends of the city compressed to form its shoulders, giving rise to something so enormous, that Leinad couldn't even process it—a mountain that moved—a city that roared.

Leinad watched a mother protecting her daughter under a collapsing roof. The debris falling all over them, but the mother never abandoned her daughter. She held the little body tightly under her arms. There was so much noise rumbling around them; steel wires were snapping. The street broke apart. A steel girder fell 500 feet, ringing atop the pavement wildly. Snapped power lines whipped violently. An oil truck ripped in half, a ball of fire eschewed from its torn belly.

Leinad held herself tucked in—a shape fell over her. It was Arcee. The female Autobot clutched Leinad tight as a mother bear, while rocks and metal fell and bashed her. Arcee's back dented in several places. Leinad looked up, a garbage truck on a lifted freeway, leaned on the edge; it teetered on the brink. The monster city shuffled forward and the garbage truck fell from the ledge. Leinad screamed. Arcee covered Leinad as much as she could. Then a black shadow fell over them and both were lifted from the floor.

Leinad opened her optics, she saw the garbage truck fall until it smashed into the ground like a compressed soda can. Arcee and Leinad had been scooped up. They were cradled in humongous metal arms. Arcee looked, and recognized the Cybertronian that had saved them from the falling truck. The three were tumbling over and over. Like a football player, an Autobot had intercepted Arcee and Leinad by flinging itself at them and at last the rolling stopped. Arcee, Leinad and Rodimus looked up at one of the largest Transformers of all time. It stood over five stories tall; it was, the giant, Defensor. Rodimus breathed a sigh of relief. His emergency call had been answered. All six of the Protectobots had heeded the call, and they arrived at the edge time. Rodimus gazed at the welcomed face of the six merged Protectobots. The giant delicately laid the three on a crumbling cement slab. Defensor was their savior and now he turned to look at the giant towering behind them.

The thing Leinad beheld bore no equivalent in memory. Confronted by something, so immense, its breathing gusts blowing people over, Leinad reclused herself into beasts of myth. On archaic temple hieroglyphs and within the Egyptian book of the dead, Leinad attached this vision to a crouched creature. Seated on paws between the gods of knowledge and death, it watched and waited. It sat reclined, a triple-bodied beast, whose powerful back legs were those of Egypt's most terrifying mammal, the hippopotamus, a behemoth of submersion. Its front legs were those the African people called a Man-Eater and in whom English was called a Lion, known for millennia as the sovereign of all land beasts. Its head was of the crocodile, on the Nile it spelled dread for all the river dwellers, for ancient people could not find another creature on Earth that was more fearsome. Later, it would give rise to the legend of Leviathan, the coiling serpent dragon. The world of the dead held a creature, a monster that encompassed all three of the world's most powerful living beings into one, powerful, composite beast. It was a triple threat. And in myth it waited, patiently, for when the unfortunate was chosen by fate, it would eagerly, with drool-splattered jaws, devour the souls of men.

Arcee recognized the dreaded silhouette, the armor-plated scales and the long tail. "Trypticon."

Rodimus gasped.

Defensor stood to his full height to examine the giant. At Defensor's height, he didn't even reach Trypticon's knee.

"Rodimus," Defensor said, "by the Inferno, what's that?"

"Well… It's not Grimlock's big brother."

"Could've fooled me. It has more teeth than a sharkticon."

"And a little more firepower. Look." Rodimus pointed at several turrets and cannons along the creature's body, swiveling to target them. "Watch out!"

The Autobots scrambled to hide behind a crumbled skyscraper. A barrage of missiles and lasers exploded behind them.

Defensor yelled at Rodimus. "We're going to need backup."

"We're going to need the whole team," Rodimus shouted. "I'm calling the Aerialbots." He slapped an emergency button on his wrist communicator. "Autobots. We're in trouble. Calling for Aerialbots. We're in the middle of… what used to be… Downtown Broadway and Main."

A voice buzzed back from his wrist. "What do you mean?"

"I mean Downtown is going to town _on_ _us_. We're being attacked by the city."

"Rodimus, did I hear you right?"

Arcee yelled at Rodimus' wrist. "You heard him. The Decepticons are attacking us. They turned the human city into a giant Transformer. And it's attacking us."

There was a pause on the receiver. "… We're on our way…"

"They don't seem too thrilled," Arcee said.

Rodimus scanned the skies. "Can't imagine why." He spotted Galvatron's aircraft flying over them. It felt like Galvatron was looking for Rodimus, trying to single him out—and he had the sudden urge to leave Arcee and Leinad to get them away from Galvatron. Then Defensor spoke.

"I'll provide cover. Rodimus, you and the others need to get out of here."

"No, Defensor." Rodimus grabbed the giant's shoulder. "You need to get to them." He pointed at the human woman and her small child, hiding behind a falling roof.

Defensor spotted them. He hesitated. "…Will do Rodimus."

Defensor leapt from his hiding spot into the open. He was vulnerable without the cover of the building to protect him. He heard gunfire pound behind him, but he had to get to the humans. He turned to look back. That thundering, thought to be cannon fire, was actually the sound of Trypticon's footsteps. The monster turned its massive, swinging body, halfway around, and its turrets swiveled to lock down on him. Defensor leapt for it, stretching out his arms for the creatures. An onslaught of firepower pounded the building behind him. He had scooped the humans, catching them before the bullets rained on them—but it was not without injury.

In his leap, Defensor's left arm had taken the brunt of the attack. It had left the metal of his exposed shoulder broken and mangled. Defensor needed to hurry, yet he now lay exposed in Trypticon's sight. That's when Defensor heard a sonic boom overhead. Five jets had appeared above in the skies.

Aerial Bots had made it in time. They unleashed a flurry of bullets on Trypticon, powdering Trypticon's reptilian head. It was perfect timing. Defensor cradled the mother and child. "I'm going to get you out of here." The mother's eyes were wide with fear. He was unsure if she understood, shackled with the shock of fire and noise around them, but Defensor held her close. With Trypticon was distracted, Defensor tore from the building, and bolted down the dirt path, splitting into his component parts. His right arm, which cradled the woman and child, became the ambulance, First Aid, and encased the humans in a protective chamber. The fire truck and chest, Hot Spot, carried what was Defensor's ruined left arm, the injured helicopter, Blades. The others veered off the main road to provide cover for the others. Motorcycle, Groove, spun around, returning fire at Trypticon while the police car, Streetwise, approached from the right side. It was a diversion, nothing the Autobots fired at Trypticon could pierce the armor. The Aerialbots swooped around for another strike. They pelted Trypticon once more. As the Autobot fighter planes swooped for a third attack, an unseen enemy struck from the ground.

Cannon fire cracked the air, scattering the Aerialbots. An anti-aircraft cannon was defending Trypticon. A couple of the Aerialbots were trailing black smoke now. Their wings had been clipped.

"Rodimus, there's something guarding Trypticon's rear side. We can't get close enough to do any firing."

"That's fine. Just keep Trypticon distracted and get Blades out of there. We need to pull back and regroup."

"If we don't stop Trypticon, the humans trapped in the wreckage will be killed."

"The 'Cons aren't after the humans, they're attacking Autobots."

"They're after you, Rodimus."

"Just get out of here."

"What about you?"

Rodimus felt a sickening, heavy weight welling in his abdomen.

"Rodimus?"

Rodimus saw the jets swooping and returning his direction.

With the Aerialbots flying down, Rodimus turned back to look upon Trypticon. He was like a walking battle tank of murderous death, an engine of destruction. But there was something wrong. Trypticon walked like a possessed creature, the yellow eyes vacant, as though it were unaware of the buildings it trampled over. It didn't know, or didn't care, that it was in the middle of a battlefield, as though all the lives it had crushed and all the Autobot and Decepticon soldiers didn't matter to it at all.

The Aerialbots made a return, their planes screeched through the air, and they made a V-formation to assault Trypticon's front. Several bombardments detonated on the black hull. And Trypticon opened fire with all his turrets on the fighter planes. The moment was brief.

From the skies a black swarm descended. Several Decepticons dropped through the clouds. They transformed in the air to their bot modes and opened fire as they fell to Earth. It was as though the entire Decepticon armada had appeared to bolster the rise of Trypticon.

As the battle was raged, the clouds above were sundered when a small star cruiser burst through the atmosphere.

"A spaceship," Rodimus shouted. "They're coming from all over."

The ship made a hook in the air and looped back towards Defensor. The side door of the ship slid sideways and three Decepticons peeked out.

"We made it!" Squeezeplay said.

"Let's show'em our new powers," Horri-Bull said, locking and loading his rifle.

Fangry snorted. "Don't tell me what to do."

The three leapt from the star cruiser into free fall and landed in the middle of city wreckage.

Horri-Bull and Kreb combined, the Decepticon's head collapsed into his chest. Kreb became the head of Horri-Bull by folding his body in half into a compact configuration and snapped into place on Horri-Bull's Neck. The two were one, Horri-Bull could see through his new set of eyes. "You see what I see, Kreb?"

"Indeed I do." The pistol swung out on Horri-Bull's arm, like the hand of clock, it leveled and erupted with smoke and fire. His weapon emitted something new thanks to Kreb, it was a cloud of rust, corrosive and black.

Horri-Bull shot out the corrosive dust cloud aimed at the Autobot jet, downing Slingshot.

Slingshot's body passed over him. It was like being underwater, the noise deafened, just a current of passing bullets and gunfire, and overhead, like a sailboat, the shadow of Slingshot rippled through the fluid air, an arc in the sky as beautiful as the cerulean shores. Slingshot shattered against the rocks, his gas chambers ruptured, sending jets of flame upwards, these were the fires of a Grecian temple. Horri-Bull tangoed through the battlefield, spinning like a ballerina on a freshly waxed stage play. The lights were on him and from his gun he delivered Artemis' arrows, striking the angels out of the sky.

Squeezeplay went on a frenzy slaying anything in his path, his swinging arms, knocked every Aerialbot off their feet. His circuits had fused with Lokos and he felt a rush of excitement and strength, feeling as though he were floating over battlefield, it moved like a miniature landscape under him. He thundered over the field like a charging linebacker and swung his menacing pincers out at the Autobots, his fists collided with them like wrecking balls and they went soaring back into the air only to plummet to Earth. It was a devastating sight and one Squeeze relished. The Titan Masters had enormous powers. He turned anxiously to see what Brisko would do for Fang.

"We need to combine," Brisko said to Fangry.

"Why would I do that?!" Fangry said. "I can manage fine on my own."

Brisko sputtered. "But I can help you with your firepower. "Why'd you let Bomber give you the upgrade if you aren't going to use it?"

"Why do you want it so much? What's in it for you?"

Brisko's shoulders drooped. "Better our chances to survive."

"Hah. Watch this." Fangry spotted Streetwise pumping toward him in his patrol car mode and shot his blaster, the aim was just southeast of the driver's side tire. Streetwise flared his engine and made a left-turn drift, swinging his rear side into Fangry which flung the Decepticon backwards off his feet. This angered the green-faced 'Con who leapt onto his feet. Fangry chased the police cruiser into a corner and leapt on top of him. Streetwise swerved to side to side to shake Fangry off, the Decepticon flailing on the roof, the siren's red flashing in Fangry's green face. Fangry unholstered his blaster and shot through Streetwise's roof. The wound caused Streetwise to crash and Fangry flew off the roof. He went careening into an exposed telephone pole, snapping it, and causing the pole and the wires to collapse over him.

"Fang!" Brisko shouted.

Fangry pulled himself up, bruised but kicking. He was holding his shoulder, smiling like an idiot.

"You almost bit it," Brisko said.

"I'm in better shape the other guy though."

"You need to merge with me. I can help you."

"No!"

He would have flung the little Nebulon when he made a back-handed swipe, but he staggered and fell on his right knee.

Brisko shook his head and lead the way out of the rubble-strewn field back to the others.

And Rodimus stared with horror as the Autobots were driven from the field and he had no choice except to call back his forces and order a retreat from the city. As he drove from the city blocks, he caught sight of the towering lizard in a smoldering, black-smoked crater.

Galvatron, from the canopy of Cyclonus' window, glowered over the red and orange leader of the Autobots.


	14. Chapter 14

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They were parked under the shade of their space shuttle. The opened cargo door served as a make-shift awning, while bolted packing crates made for chairs. The Nebulons were taking turns flicking electro-discs across from where they sat, trying to spin their projectiles into the automated target-board which moved its targets around after every shot. Horri-Bull took his seat, reclining until the crate whined under the stress, and handed Kreb a drink. Kreb hesitated. Horri-Bull repeated the gesture, eagerly handing the canister to Kreb. It was the first friendly thing he had ever done to Kreb and the Nebulon took the canister with both hands. The two clinked their cans together and raced each other to be first to gulp down and empty their canister. The two crushed their cans in their hands and flung the remains at the distant dartboard. Squeeze and Fang joined them, approaching the seats with two bottles apiece in each hand and settled on the crates. The Decepticons, Squeeze, Fang and Bull knocked their bottles together and watched Brisko attempt his third shot. When he hit the bull's-eye, the group cheered and let out a fit of laughter when Bomber walked by, nearly getting decapitated by an electro-disc.

Bomber shook his manacles in a fit of annoyance. "I thought we were on the same team."

"Us too," Brisko said, "until you took your eyes off Necro."

Horri-Bull spat. "You need to shut-up, egg-head."

"Where is he anyway?" Lokos asked.

"Don't know," Bomber said. "He stayed behind the locked security bay."

"And you were the only one here with him who could have opened it."

"Unless some low-watt Einstein thought it smart to sneak onboard an armed vessel, eh, smart guy?" Kreb said.

"Who else could've known he was there?" Brisko said.

Bomber shrugged.

Brisko turned to the others. "We need to get that transcription decoded fast."

Horri-Bull straightened in his seat. His eyes glinted when he spotted something in the distance. The others looked in the direction, trying to see what it was. A large door, a threshold a thousand feet tall, was wide open on the belly of Trypticon. Many of the Decepticons were swooping in, landing at the doorway. They could see them shaking hands and congratulating each other, gestures which made Horri-Bull set down his canister and peer round at the others. They followed his example and stood, holstering their weapons.

Brisko twirled his pen, catching the stare of Kreb and Lokos. The disappearance of their captive was enough to make them quiet. As they loaded up extra fire arms and hid grenades in their compartments, their minds focused on the journey to the standing reptile… which would be brutal. Its shadow fell on them before they were within a mile's distance. However, the closer they came, they found some subtle solace.

When they approached Trypticon, they noticed how still the beast was. He was like an onyx obelisk, statue-still, life-less as his coal black eyes. Pointing toward the door of his belly was an inclined green ramp as wide as five freeways fastened shoulder to shoulder. At the top of the ramp was a plateau where most of the Decepticons had landed before entering the cavernous chamber. Greeting the soldiers stood Cyclonus, and at his left waited a greeting Galvatron, shaking hands with each of the 'Cons as they approached. They caught a whiff of a conversation Galvatron was in with a cannon Decepticon by the name of Brunt.

Brunt swung his heavy arms in energetic circles as he spoke. His thick forearms waved so close to Galvatron, it appeared he might bludgeon their leader at any moment.

"But why's he not responding?" Brunt was heard asking.

Galvatron placed, as a comforting gesture, his orange-gun barreled hand on Brunt's thick shoulder. "For years, the Titan's slept as a ship. Duty bound, he gave us the means to leave Cybertron and travel to Earth and had been kept locked under the sea. Having had some experience dealing with giant monsters…"

If this was a joke, it was met with gripped silence.

"…It no longer made sense to hold back for so long; why not use such an awesome weapon? My hesitation was whether Trypticon would be willing to take orders. Now that he's back on his feet, he doesn't seem to have that problem. Perhaps it's for the better."

Galvatron turned to follow the remaining soldiers into the belly chamber, he only stopped when Cyclonus tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to Squeeze, Fang and Bull.

"Ah. Welcome, brave warriors. So good of you to come."

The three stood shoulder to shoulder, ready for more praise.

Galvatron turned once more to the threshold and left with Cyclonus following his footsteps to the chamber.

Brunt was the only soldier to remain outdoors, he gazed up at Trypticon's head. The giant body was crowned with a reptilian head. From Brunt's view one would see the underside of the maw like an alligator or a shark's mandible, the tips of his coned teeth framing the ridge.

They lingered no more at the door, the Decepticons walked under the doorway and into the belly chamber. The three Nebulons looked at every corner and visible shadow, watching for signs of a purple robot.

A gallant set of tables had been placed inside the chamber while a gleaming chandelier had been rigged to the ceiling by Ratbat and Buzzsaw. It made the chamber dazzle like a prom dance hall, and seated at each table, were the Decepticon fighters whom Galvatron summoned. A crimson carpet had been laid on the chamber floor, those from Outpost 9 had their first feeling of being welcomed.

When the three stepped on the carpet, some oil stains seeped into the red fibers. Horri-Bull was leaking fluids from his body. It left a trail on the floor. Horri-Bull puffed up his chest. It didn't matter. What matters is not how they looked, but that they heeded the call of battle and served their master well. They were proud warriors now and they had the scars to prove it.

Their optics sparkled when they saw those seated. They recognized Onslaught and Astrotrain. Squeezeplay made a subtle point to another table. There was Soundwave seated with a whole table of the mini-cassette Decepticons. Rumble, Frenzy, Ravage, Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, Ratbat and also Beastbox, Squawktalk and Overkill. So many of the Decepticons' greatest warriors had shown up. The legendary Sixshot, the terrifying Stunticons and there was also—

"Excuse us, pal—"Pardon us," they heard two obnoxious voices say. Behind them, there were numerous Sweeps, the identical foot-soldiers under the command of Scourge. The Sweeps were busy setting down drinks on different tables and serving things from trays like servants. A couple of the Sweeps had lost their balance and clattered silver trays over as they fell. They had been pushed aside when two shoulders muscled their way past them to get to their table.

"Watch out, you've got some big boys coming through." Snapdragon was in his reptile mode, waddling through and dragging his long lizard-like tail between the tables, making Sweeps trip and fall over it.

Apeface, the giant ape, kept slapping other Decepticons on the back and shoving Sweeps out of his way. "Good to see you. How's it hangin'? Don't mind us, just gettin' something to drink." Numerous Sweeps approached his table with energon beverages, but he backhanded the trays they were carrying and demanded they bring him bananas to where Apeface and Snapdragon were making boasts. They could hear Apeface arguing that they kept getting his order wrong and he continued to clap his fellow 'Cons on the back.

The highest seats of the chamber were reserved for Cyclonus on the right and on the left was Scourge. Between them sat Galvatron on the highest chair.

Horri-Bull, Fangry and Squeezeplay strode smugly into the room. There were no small-time 'Cons here. They had obviously been promoted past the likes of the ordinary, unremarkable bots. No one at the hall was a weakling or a low-rank. There was no sign of Dirge, Thrust or Ramjet, or Reflector, but then again, Horri-Bull thought he heard they had perished. Was their absence indication they had died?

Horri-Bull led the way down the aisle between the tables. The other Decepticons watched them with snickering faces. Something was wrong. Why was everyone staring at them? Galvatron had invited them to the gathering himself. They caught nasty glares from every bot they walked by. Perhaps, Horri-Bull thought, they had not seen 'Cons that could transform into creatures resembling a bull, a wolf, or crab. They're impressed.

Horri-Bull couldn't believe it. Not twenty feet apart, looking directly at them, were Slugslinger and Triggerhappy. These two were of the most decorated marksmen to ever pick up a blaster: Slugslinger, a blue and white gunslinger, who became a jet with a double cockpit. At his side sat Triggerhappy—give him a rifle and you could send half the army home. Horri-Bull hadn't taken another step, he was speechless. He didn't let a second pass before his mind was made up and he strode towards the table were his gun-toting heroes sat.

"What's that smell?" Slugslinger said.

"Look at those." Triggerhappy spun his pistol on his finger like a cowboy. "What are they doing here?"

Horri-Bull slammed a hand on their table, his eyes danced from one to the other. "Horri-Bull's the name. I've been want-ing to meet you face to face for a ter-rib-ly long time."

Slugslinger looked aghast. He stared open-jawed at the runny black fluid Horri-Bull had just splattered over their table and his legs.

"Perhaps we'll fight on the field of battle together," Horri-Bull said.

Slugslinger smirked. "Fight? You and us… together?"

Horri-Bull took his blue hand off the table, it wobbled a bit before becoming still again.

"Now why would we do that?" Slugslinger asked. "I don't know why you bothered to show. This is a party for only the best 'Cons."

The Three looked at each other, cringing. Horri-Bull was horrified.

Triggerhappy let out a shrill barrage of laughter.

Slugslinger pointed at them, his hand pointing like a pistol. "Why in the cosmos did you think you'd be welcome here?"

"We received the message just like the rest of you," Squeezeplay said.

"Slugfest is still with them," Soundwave said.

Triggerhappy let out another machinegun-fire of squeals and giggles. It was piercing. "You received a signal on Slugfest meant for Soundwave. This is too rich!"

It finally dawned on them. The Decepticons from Outpost 9 had not been invited to this event after all. It had been an accident with the transmission. No one cared who they were.

"You idiots! No one would ever ask for your help," Slugslinger said. Once the other Decepticons in the room realized what was going on, the hall erupted with chortles and full-blown belly laughs.

The Three backed away into the corner.

Slugslinger called out to them even as they tried to leave the room. "We'll call you if we need you."

Triggerhappy added more as they edged away. "If… we need to fix a sewer pipe." Something in the middle of the hall was happening that interrupted the laughter. All noise in the room lowered to a whisper.

Galvatron had raised from his seat holding a glass of energon high. He was about to make a toast. Cyclonus stood to his right, smiling. He was looking at Galvatron full of confidence. His master was commanding his forces just as he used to.

Galvatron raised his glass higher, in expectation the others in the room should do the same.

His back straight, shoulders squared, Cyclonus could tell Galvatron was proud. At the rallying call, more troops had answered than he expected. It was a sign that they still had their confidence as their leader. And now Galvatron knew who he could trust as well. This little party was more than just for show, it was also long held fears assuaged by strong, confident affirmations. Then he cleared his vocalizer.

"Decepticons… to the best, to the strongest. Down the hatch."

"It's good to see how many of you are still loyal to the Decepticon cause." He paused to glance about the room. "So many well-known faces… and a few new ones as well." His eyes alighted on Squeezeplay, Horri-Bull and Fangry. "I wonder where the others are? Perhaps they're afraid of a few Autobots. There's a mistake in thinking the Autobots have a tactical advantage in stealing Cybertron from us. Do they really think the Autobots are stronger than before?"

He set down his energon.

"You're witnessing their final days. They're desperate and reckless now. It only makes sense that this would be the perfect time to strike. Just look at their new leader. Rodimus… Let me tell you… he's no Prime. The Prime I knew was strong, with more bravery than this one will ever amount to. The Autobots have no more Primes. The last one has been destroyed. And now, his Autobots have run scurrying to the first red Autobot that can hold the Matrix. Ultra Magnus came after Prime and now Rodimus. I wonder…what sort of leadership are these Autobots looking for? They go through them so fast. I tell you this… the Autobots have chosen someone weak, someone feeble-minded to lead them. Let's end this now. We'll do away with their leadership once and for all. Once that's been dealt with… the Autobots will finally be eradicated. The timing couldn't be more perfect. Optimus made a mistake in choosing this new blood. I shall prove it by ripping open Rodimus and extinguishing his spark and I will take the matrix of leadership and feed it to Trypticon." He then gazed at the green and violet ceiling, a mass of wires, crackling with high voltage.

"But… why hasn't Trypticon decided to join the fight before?" Slugslinger asked. "What's he been doing all this time?"

Galvatron pointed to the sparking ceiling. "The heavy damage and stasis he had been locked into must have impaired his neural network. If he's in there…" He lifted his red eyes to the ceiling, "…he's so deep he probably doesn't realize what he's doing. He's as much a passenger in his own body as we are. If he's aware… even if he is, he's incapable of controlling his own body. It matters not if he's unwilling. Perhaps it's for the better."

Triggerhappy snorted. "Haw. Too rich. He's just a big walking idiot."

Kreb, Brisko and Lokos breathed a sigh of relief.

Galvatron continued. "As for the Autobots… they're at their most vulnerable. They've hastily followed Rodimus, whose still in the glory of an after-battle daze. You can see how scattered they are after Trypticon's emergence. There are only two targets left. Once we've hit those, the Autobots will be spoken of only in Decepticon history. We'll wipe out the Autobots… permanently."

Cyclonus stood to speak into Galvatron's right receptor. "Lord Galvatron, just a moment."

"We have a surprise for Lord Galvatron," Cyclonus told the audience. "Bring forth his _special_ guests."

Those at their table, whom were not falling over drunk, held confused looks. What could Cyclonus be referring to?

A Constructicon entered the hall from the southern side so that he and his prisoners would walk up the center aisle along the red carpet. There marched two captured enemies: one, a Protectobot, riddled with bullet wounds, the other at his side, hands bound, a human in a marine business suit.

"Of course," Galvatron said. "Mayor Bloom. What a delight."

He was shoved to his knees before Galvatron.

"You said… you said… you wouldn't." His head hung low.

"Hah hah hah. Cheaper materials indeed. Always check your labor costs. This would be a perfect time to demonstrate what I plan to do once Rodimus is captured." He nodded to signal one of the Sweeps who waited near an open panel of wires and levers. He flipped the furthest lever and a pit opened in the floor in front of Mayor Bloom and Streetwise.

"Any last words, Autobot?" Galvatron asked him.

Streetwise peered down the shaft and saw the open maw of the molten metal smelting pool waiting below.

Streetwise noticed the mayor cowering near the edge. He stood straight, arms tied behind him. "It'll take more than your ghetto Galvatron soup to put out this flame. You can't destroy the Autobots. Whatever you are, you don't have what it takes. The best you had was already beaten out of you when Optimus laid a smack down on you. Rodimus will make short work of you after he kicks your afterburner around a bit. So chew on that."

"Hmm. Such a waste." Galvatron waved his hand.

Triggerhappy snickered. Slugslinger whipped out his gun beneath the table, and, while seated, shot poor Streetwise in the back, shoving off the edge.

The Protectobot fell into the pit. Mayor Bloom saw him consumed until only his raised hand reached out from the molten metal.

Galvatron grunted, the smoldering orange glow glinting in his optics. Cyclonus noticed the fires of rage, the Autobot's words had not bounced off as he presumed. Galvatron set his sights on the mayor.

Bloom fell to his hands and knees. "Please, spare me."

The Decepticon lord raised an eyebrow. "Where's your spine, human? We must all perish eventually. At least Autobots do so with dignity. Their form of dignity, anyway."

"I… I… I'll do whatever you say. Just please…"

"Hmm. Pathetic." He raised his arm open handed.

The Constructicons grabbed the mayor and flung him to his feet.

"Then do this," Galvatron said. "Go, claw your way back to the Autobots. Tell them how you were allowed to live and watched an Autobot die. You've already sold out your own kind, mayor, your refuge is shrinking every day. Now run." He shot his cannon at the mayor's feet.

The human leaped back, screamed and went hurtling down the aisle before throwing himself out of the entrance.

"Mayor Bloom. Run, run to the Autobots. Hah hah hah. Slimy creatures ruled by jelly. Amygdalae."

A current of sparks and energy raced up the conduits surrounding the hall. The ceiling lit up with mechanical activity. And while this was happening, muffled explosions could be heard detonating outside. It made the Decepticons sit upright and listen. Horri-Bull, Squeezeplay, Fangry and their Titan Master partners were already sidling to the exit, it seemed the perfect time to leave the party.


	15. Chapter 15

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Before he could set down the communicator, another call came in. It was the U.S. Armed Forces. Rodimus tuned in the communication channel.

"Autobots. Come in. Do you read?" Rodimus recognized Marissa Faireborn's voice.

"Yes, Captain."

"We received your transmission. We're sending a squadron of five eagles to neutralize the target."

"I appreciate it, Captain, but they won't be able to do much against Trypticon's fortified hide. Pull them back and attack his ground support instead."

"No can do, Rodimus. The order has already been patched through."

"Pull, them back, Captain. It's suicide!"

Five raptor jets approached Trypticon from the mountainside. When their cross hairs lined up, they deployed their air missiles and launched them at the titan.

The turrets on Trypticon's body sensed the incoming barrage and returned fire. The missiles were intercepted by Trypticon's defense artillery and detonated out of range.

The fighter pilots cursed. One of the jets then felt a blast from below. "We've received return fire from anti-aircraft weapons."

"Turn around and head back to—" The signal didn't finish. The fighter plane burst into a fiery cloud of rubble.

The pilots swooped to turn back. Out of the cockpit window, one of the pilots saw the ground support Trypticon was being protected with. A large artillery cannon on treaded wheels fired massive volleys at the fighters. As the fighter planes flew off to avoid the fire, Brunt transformed from his tank mode. His laid his purple hand on Trypticon's foot, tapping it for sport. His cyclopian red eye, ringed around his head, scanned the skies for more trouble.

On a hill of earth between shattered rooftops and overturned buses, Full-Tilt discovered Octane waiting for him. They stared at each other across a crumbled road. At Octane's left stood Necro, his small hands bound in manacles behind his back. Full-Tilt stared at the small bot the way a lioness laid low in the reeds waiting for the gazelle to race past.

Octane's mind made several calculations. He gripped tightly at Necro wondering if he was worth a few more bargaining chips than just his life. In the end, he relented, setting the little bot free to scamper to Full-Tilt. The two Decepticons traded one last look. Octane knew it was the last time he would see him. The exchange was worth his life, but the cost was dear and now he had little time; he had to go into hiding again… and it would be a place where'd he'd never have to see Full-Tilt's face again.

As Octane walked into the shadows, he thought perhaps he had made a mistake in severing his ties so quickly, but then he shook his head to empty his mind of doubt. Whatever the two were planning, Octane sensed that those two were unlikely to come out of it alive. Wherever devastation lurked, opportunity presented itself, and where there's opportunity, there would be Octane.

Full-Tilt gazed at Necro—liberated at last. The moment was frozen in an eternity, like a blizzard trapped in a snowglobe. A vision often imagined, but less impressive in real life. Necro bore the marks of rust, of age, of a relic.

"What took so long?" Necro said.

"…I was held back."

Full-Tilt looked him over. "Undamaged?"

Necro nodded.

Full-Tilt heaved himself onto one knee. His oscillators groaned as he shifted his weight. One could imagine a giant tractor had been lifted off of Full-Tilt's shoulders. "I was afraid you were gone for good."

Necro laid a hand on Full-Tilt's shoulder. "You should have more faith. The cycle will always continue."

Full-Tilt couldn't believe his optics or his receptors. But there he was in person.

"Once this is over," Necro said, "you'll find peace. Quiet stars float past slowly when seen from the deck, but they're without the sound or the violence."

"I'll make sure," Full-Tilt said, "The four of us make it no matter what."

"Four?"

Full-Tilt nodded. His red visor gleamed. "Loyalty deserves to be rewarded. He guards the body."

Brunt, on his fifth cycle of patrol, spotted the two figures approach the stationed Trypticon. He lowered his cannon and aligned his reticle, then paused when he recognized the purple helmet.

"You! What are you doing here?" He waved his club-like arms wildly.

"Easy there. I think we're on the same side."

"Full-Tilt?" Brunt eased his cannon. Brunt hadn't seen him since he had been imprisoned. His memory files ran rapidly. Full-Tilt had been the only one to publicly disobey Megatron when their leader had ordered Trypticon's fate. He'd been captured, tried and put in prison for insubordination. It was later reported as treason. Most had disregarded it. Brunt had learned the truth. Years ago, Trypticon had been a space station orbiting Cybertron. Trypticon had been ordered to attack the Autobots before they could leave Cybertron for Earth. Trypticon had failed to prevent Optimus Prime and the Autobots from escaping Cybertron. If the Titan had succeeded… history would have played out differently. As punishment for his failure, Megatron ordered Trypticon's battered body to become repurposed as the space ship for the Decepticons to chase the Autobots to Earth. Trypticon had been damaged beyond repair due to the war. Being forced to become a space battleship meant Trypticon would be unable to change back. The titan would be forced to become a vessel for the Decepticons forever. And Full-Tilt fought to defend Trypticon. In the end, Full-Tilt watched as the Titan was made into an immobile weapon. His sentience disappeared. Brunt had two main objectives. He had his loyalty to the Decepticons. And the other… defend Trypticon at all costs.

Brunt saw that Full-Tilt was not alone. At his side was a small Nebulon. "Why have you come?"

Full-Tilt cocked his head to the side. "To make sure the four of us make it."

Squeezeplay slammed their shuttle's door aside. The three Decepticons and their three Nebulon partners lumbered broodingly into the bay area of the shuttle. There was no sign of the chicken anywhere. Good riddance.

They sat in the cockpit, staring blankly at charts and maps but they weren't looking for any place in particular. Fangry leaned on the back of the pilot chair. Squeezeplay had thrown himself on the floor, his back against the wall, while Horri-Bull turned his back on everyone as he sat on a crate, staring at the floor between his legs. Kreb looked around the room at the listless faces. The console light was flashing. It meant a message had been received. It was the intercepted message they had found on Magnon. A display read that the message it had finally been decrypted and was ready for viewing. Without a word to the others he pressed play to view the footage on their screen. The monitor's light fell on his comrade's shoulders and they turned their eyes upward.

The Decepticons, Horri-Bull, Fangry and Squeezeplay leaned towards the teal light of the monitor. The video was from a surveillance camera. It depicted a time-lapse of a Nebulon-styled city, its city lights, road signals and denizens all blurring rapidly across the camera. The sped footage came from a high vantage point, the camera had been mounted on a steel radio tower. Nebulon symbols displayed the time in the corner reading a date 25,000 years ago. Someone had wanted this footage found. Then the horizon, the clouds, the city footage cut out and the time stamp disappeared. A piece of different captured recording overlapped the initial footage. It was a ground view, looking upwards at a skyline buzzing with moving air vehicles. The camera followed a passing starship, it was a miniscule vehicle, one passenger-sized, with a twin set of propellant engines. The starship landed near the outskirts. The footage cut here, this time, taped over by a shoulder-mounted camera, like the recordings found on security officers' body cameras. It was becoming clear someone had spliced this surveillance together with the objective of exposing something—like watching evidence being made ready for an indictment. One piece of footage following another with the intent to show a courtroom how separate events lead to a conclusion. The shoulder-mounted footage showed a crowd of Nebulons gathered near the docked starship. They were walking back and forth in front of the camera and talking rapidly like they were nervous. On a raised terrace, the starship's ramp had been lowered. Obscured between the passing bodies from the crowd of observers, the viewer saw a small bot had exited the starship and was being interrogated by an armed official. The camera zoomed in. The fuzzy features of the bot focused. The three Decepticons watching the video jilted back in alarm when they recognized the bot in the grainy footage.

The very next shots were quickly cut. These were less-than-a-minute-reels showing city tower cam surveillance across several different days. In the background rose the skeleton of a communication tower, halfway through its construction. The first showed Necro outside the cross-linked fence of an electric plant inserting his right limb into a conduit coil. The camera panned left to get a better view of the narrowing horizon line of the evening highway. A couple micro-cycles later, the darkened street's overhead lights lit up row after row into the distance. Necro removed his hand from the conduit, and a standing workman made a gasp and a gesture to congratulate him. It suggested Necro's power had done it all. One following length of surveillance exhibited Necro helping the Nebulons weld their corroded pipes. Another was of Necro rewiring broken electric lines. The next was of Necro driving a small dune car to the outer crops and helping claim the harvested oil. It made matters so much worse after the Decepticons saw how the video ended.

The next footage bore no time code, but it was clear the events happened after the tower had been built. A huge gathering of the city's residents stood in a crowded street pointing up at something above the frame of the camera. Necro was visible at the apex of the crowd, looking back at the others facing his way. He was standing next to a tall black building. The person recording zoomed out to get a better shot of the structure Necro stood next to. The details might have been missed because of the rugged edges in the shadows which gave the suggestion of a black temple or a stone building with carved reliefs. The sight was horrific. Necro did not stand next to a black temple, a stone building, or any sort of living structure as one would put it, instead he was parallel to an immense metallic foot. A giant block of plated metal towered over him. The camera roamed up the black ridge—the plated armor was like a mountain crag. Before the camera finished scaling, the footage cut. The sudden cease of the playing footage felt more prolonged, like staring into an empty black void.

Another spliced reel was spliced in, it was a handheld video. A worm's eye view captured Necro standing on the shoulder of a colossal machine. He was pointing down as if giving instruction. Flashes of fire and smoke obscured the lens. The shadows of eruptions from the city, passed over Necro's body like waves. They lit Necro's frame from below. Then Necro turned toward the camera and stared at the viewers and another smoldering flame passed over the camera lens and the footage ended.

Only now it dawned on the Decepticons, the identity of their former captive. Lokos' optics widened. He, Kreb and Brisko knew exactly where Necro would be.

The two ascended to the highest chamber. At the elevator's edge was a set of stairs facing a vault that covered the north wall. Necro slid his hand into an aperture in the wall and twisted his wrist. The flexing unlocked several gears which discharged pent-up sparks then they moved the vault's doors out of the way. At the top of a second climb of stairs was another room full of monitors. The floor of this chamber was obscured by multiple coils of thick electric cable like optic-fiber pythons. The chamber narrowed into a small area which reminded Necro of a single-pilot cockpit, only shadowed with violet pipes. Underneath, the helm's console displayed many readouts. Trypticon's neural pulse was weak. The line barely registered activity.

Necro and Full-Tilt stared at the raised part of the console. Like a pinnacle rock, it protruded like the stem of a galleon's ship wheel from a deck. An intricate array of wires webbed around a titanium lock—a portent which yawed open once Necro activated certain switches—everything as it should be in memory.

"You seem surprised," Necro said to Full-Tilt.

"I didn't know if… you had survived."

"You say that every time." Necro folded and transformed into a small, cube-like plug.

Full-Tilt, in jackal-headed tradition, raised the folded body of Necro and inserted him into the space. The connections discharged an arc of electricity. The read-out displaying Trypticon's brain waves flew off the charts. Trypticon's eyes lit up. The behemoth roared. This echoing soundwave shattered the windows of buildings close by. Trypticon swung his head from side to side. He grinded his claws together, then with one motion, he lifted his heavy legs and took several ground-shaking steps forward.

The roaring traveled far, even to the outskirts of the city limits, where Leinad heard the rumbling voice carry, far as she was, still traveling in Arcee's arms. The words shook her chest. They sounded like grinding metal dragged over harsh asphalt. It reminded her of what Lucy said crossly to Ricky once. "Better late… than never."

They had brought to life one for whom forever meant nothing.

Kreb looked out the window. "Well… there goes the neighborhood."


	16. Chapter 16

Part 3

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The road from the interstate stretched for a while without turns. This is the road Lars had driven on so many times that he had entered that quiet state of mind, where the road becomes a blur and the sleepy monotonous commute is so integrated to muscle memory, that the radio becomes the only sort of stimulus. Lars would remember something through the KGYN about foreign invaders, the kind of political buzz that scored points for pundits and news jockeys. It was just a regular Monday and Lars wondered if the mail delivery man would forget where his address was again.

When Lars pulled up his Chevy, he realized his discount video store was no longer standing in the same place on the street. He was still holding the keys to unlock the door in his hand when he realized the whole city block was gone. He had driven the whole route without noticing. A long, cold shadow loomed overhead, covering an area the size of a football field. And now he saw his collectible store, it was a moving part inside the leg of an immense walking dinosaur. Lars dropped his Starbucks and hopped back in his Chevy. He switched the transmission in reverse and drove off in a cloud of dust.

"Well done, minions," Trypticon said. The Titan's spotlight eyes passed over Full-Tilt and Brunt. They stood, waiting at his feet. "I assume Megatron's been deposed. Hshah."

Brunt and Full-Tilt looked at each other.

"Well… about that," Full-Tilt said. "Galvatron's in command now."

Trypticon brought his claws closer to his snout to look at them. "No matter. Shruh." He squeezed them, and the hinges groaned. Dust and metal flaked off and fell. He then jostled side to side, feeling the rickety strain of Earth's skyscrapers, roads and foundations within his legs. "Where is this?"

Full-Tilt and Brunt felt their chests shake from his rumbling voice.

"Earth," Brunt said.

"Earth? Spah." Trypticon turned his head 180 degrees to examine the landscape. "This is just a husk of dust. I feel dust in my veins. It's choking. Csuh. My throat is dry." He clawed at his bulging neck. Cables dangled from his jaw.

"Metroplex is here," Brunt said.

"Yes. Inevitably. Hruh." Trypticon raised his snout. "I smell… something. Shuh." He turned his head north. "Metroplex will be dealt with. But for now…" The reptile took a step forward. He nearly toppled over. The wreck would have been devastating, but his body stayed upright. He groaned. A few more steps and he had the hang of his new body. Then, swinging his tail southward, Trypticon started marching from where the devastated metropolis zone, Trycounty City, used to be.

Cyclonus and Megatron had felt the thundering footsteps. They were in the underground caverns planning battle formations with the Constructicons when the earthquakes began to rumble and bits of earth showered over their equipment.

"What's that?" Galvatron said.

The group of Decepticons rushed to the surface as another footstep made the ground shake.

"Lord Galvatron… misfortunes plague us." Cyclonus said. "Trypticon's on the move!"

"I can see that for myself," Galvatron said, hissing the words out. He pointed towards the reptile head. "Find out who's controlling him." It was a command that Cyclonus should take to the air.

Cyclonus transformed into a violet and blue fighter craft leaping off the crater's edge and zoomed to Trypticon's left ear. He circled the walking beast a couple times, peering into the orange-yellow eyes.

"Galvatron?"

"Cyclonus. Report."

"Trypticon appears unmanned. His pupils track me with keen interest. I would swear he's become aware."

"No…" Galvatron muttered. "Impossible… We must prevent him from leaving, he's disrupting our plans."

"Shall I engage?"

There was a pause on the communicator.

Galvatron scoured the mountain range ahead of Trypticon's position. "No, Cyclonus. Figure out his trajectory. Where's he headed?"

"His northward trajectory might be fruitful. I shall keep you informed."

"Very well," Galvatron turned off the communicator. His head stooped, his brow darkened by his triple-prongs.

Rodimus, Arcee, Leinad and the Protectobots had retreated from the battlefield, carried away on First Aid's back. They had been taken to the Ark, the home base for the Autobots on Earth. As they passed beneath the Ark's gate, Rodimus caught Arcee's glance.

"I think she's okay now," she said. "She's just resting."

Leinad's small body was slumped, leaning on Arcee's left arm.

"As soon as I get back, I'm dedicating myself to her." He cradled her head.

"What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"To make sure all my work on Autobot city isn't destroyed by an overgrown monitor lizard." She sighed. "Blaster needs help. The 'Cons will make their move soon."

"But what about—"

Arcee knew what he was going to say. He paused before he finished his thought.

"Nevermind." She said. "I thought maybe she'd be safer here, but I think it's best if I take her with me."

"She'll be safe here. It's not that big a deal." His voice sounded nervous. "I mean... don't get me wrong… that's not what I meant."

Arcee laid on a hand on his shoulder. "I know what you're trying to say. Rodimus, you can't take care of her." She stared at him with the soft blue light of her eyes. "Not when you have so much that demands your attention…"

Rodimus had no idea what Arcee meant, until she pointed her finger past his shoulder.

Behind him, Autobots scrambled to their emergency posts. The Ark's interior was alive with the blare of klaxons, the pulse of red and blue beacons.

Rodimus turned back. Arcee held Leinad close and took two steps from him. He gave her a wink and a knowing nod. Without wasting time on more words, she transformed into her car mode and seated Leinad. Then she wheeled about and veered to the exit tunnel, leaving Rodimus behind. Rodimus's helmet drooped. Then he took a deep breath and turned to find the command center.

Two Autobots were running back and forth on the command deck. Alerts were pouring in from all over. The computer, Teletran – 1, was running hot from running non-stop. When one emergency call was answered, another call would come a couple seconds later. The Ark was understaffed. A momentary pause came in between the calls.

"Sure wish Optimus was here," one Autobot said to the other.

"Yeah, he'd know exactly what to do."

They had forgotten Rodimus stood behind them. The two young Autobots turned around. "Oh, sorry, Rodimus! I didn't meant to—"

"It's alright, Swerve." Rodimus sighed while taking the data-pad from Swerve. "I miss him too. Any news from Metro?"

The Autobot nodded. "Without his transformation cog, Metroplex can't transform to defend himself. Trypticon will walk right over him."

Rodimus tossed aside the datapad. "That can't happen." He turned on the communicator. "Attention, Autobot City. This is Rodimus… and this is not a drill. Prepare for attack. All hands to battle stations. I repeat. This is not a drill. All hands to battle stations."

He glanced at Swerve. "Metroplex needs his cog now. Send this signal to Blaster, he needs to know the Decepticons are in full charge mode."

"Right! You got it, Rodimus." Swerved scampered off.

That made the uneasy Autobots less tense. With orders to follow, they didn't feel as hopeless as before. Everyone needed something to do. Rodimus pulled up his communicator. There was only one person he wanted to speak with now. He stepped away from the bustle of the Command Deck.

"How are ya holdin' up, Lad?" Kup's grizzled voice came out like static on the communicator. His grim grin made Rodimus smile. "Sure miss ya, old timer. I'm starting to feel that they picked the wrong bot for Optimus's old job."

"Uh huh. Listen. I know times like these are tough. But you'll learn. Take it from me. I may not be the strongest or the smartest, kid, but I've survived a whole lot. You'll survive this, trust me. Stop asking how to leader and get in there and lead. That's my best advice."

"Thanks, Kup."

Kup pointed behind his shoulder. "I've got a whole lot of twitchy trigger-finger bots on Cybertron ready to come down and fight wicha, problem is, the Space Bridge is out of commission."

"Are you saying we have reinforcements on Cybertron?"

"Yeah. Whole lotta good it'll do us, though, without the Bridge, the battle will be over before we get the troops down there."

Rodimus brought a finger to his chin. "If I can reactivate the Bridge here, will your side be functional?"

"Yeah. It sounds like there's a plan goin'."

"You ready the troops at the Bridge. And wait for my signal."

"You got it." Kup's green face became pixelated and the screen went blank.

Rodimus then called Grapple. "Grapple, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear, Rodimus."

"I'm going to need that Space Bridge up and running in next five minutes."

"Even with all the help I have, it'll still take at least five hours before it's fully operational."

"Make it in two hours and I'll take you to see the Eiffel Tower."

"I'll do my best, Rodimus. Grapple out."

"Rodimus." Someone was standing behind him. He had mistaken the voice. He thought it was another computer monitor behind him. First Aid had been waiting for Rodimus to finish before calling his attention.

"Sorry, F-A. What is it? Are the humans safe?"

"They are, Rodimus, we've taken them to the medical bay. But they'll do better at Autobot City. I've requested a transport to take them" His tone deepened into a serious grit. "It's not really what I called you…"

"Oh?"

First Aid tilted his head to the repair bay indicating Rodimus should follow.

Rodimus understood. "Have Swerve take over. I'll be back soon."

Rodimus was lead to the quiet repair bay. Seated on the examination table was Blades, holding himself up in a slouch.

"How are you doing, Blades?"

Blades held his shoulder, wincing when he tried to turn. "I've been better."

"The medical report looks good. It looks like you'll be back on your feet in no time."

Blades stared at the cold floor.

Rodimus rested a hand on Blade's shoulder. It felt weightless, like it had no substance, making Blades swipe it away. Rodimus stared at the Autobot. Blades had always been a difficult Autobot to work with. He only accepted his last mission when it had been demanded of him for the third time. As one of the Protectobots, he was supposed to help and aid the people in the city. Rodimus had appointed the Protectobots to Trycounty City as a show of good faith, despite the mayor's personal feelings. Blades, however never seemed to accept his responsibility. Blades always accepted being a member of his dutiful team, but it seemed to Rodimus that he loathed it. Perhaps it would have been better if Blades was on the front lines. Rodimus had seen Blades tear Decepticons apart with his… well… blades.

"You asked me to do this," Blades said.

"I did." He looked at the nasty gash on Blades, a hole had been torn vertically from his shoulder down to his thigh, a gash that could have been avoided. "I'm sorry. You're hurt. You don't have to do this anymore."

Blades took his eyes from the floor.

"I'm sorry about Streetwise," Rodimus's blue optics shuttered. "It's my fault. I can have you transferred to Cybertron if you'd like."

Blades snorted. "So I can stack supplies and rebuild Cybertron?"

Rodimus shook his head. What is it Blades wanted? Rodimus thought he was giving it to him. "I wanted you here so you could learn how to be helpful to the humans. To be part of a team."

Blades snickered. "You think every Autobot wants to be like you. Let's all make friends with the tiny flesh critters. Let them ride inside you so they can get drunk and throw up all over your interior. They just want to crawl into your backseat and be gross. I've never gotten a thank you from any I've rescued. They just expect it. They don't think about being nice to each other, so why should anybody else. I don't give a damn about the humans. If Optimus had been here…" He pointed to his torn side. "…this wouldn't have happened."

Rodimus's hands fell to his sides.

"Just stay out of my way from now on, Rodimus."

"You have your duty." Rodimus' voice came out stern. "If you want to be an Autobot, you have to be part of the team. You have to follow orders."

"Sez who?" Blades had turned to face away from Rodimus and said no more to him. Then Rodimus left Blades to cool off his hot head in the medical bay. He paused outside the hallway, bringing a finger to his lip. He looked at his scraped left arm. The fractured Autobot symbol was on the back of his arm, scratched over but visible. Back in the old days it never meant much to him. It was a required symbol, like an I.D. card. Now it felt more important. It was like a badge.

"Rodimus…" Swerve called.

What now?

"Please get to the Command Deck as soon as you can. You're not gonna like this."


	17. Chapter 17

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Rodimus hauled himself up the command deck's stairs and dragged himself to his post where Swerve sat waiting in front of a monitor. He pointed at a digital topographic map of the Ark base. Within view of the mountainous surroundings, a pulsing red blob of pixels moved closer from the lower right corner of the screen. Swerve's finger jittered over the red shape.

"Trypticon?" Rodimus asked.

"Bingo. His trajectory's on track to breach the Ark in forty-five minutes."

"So Galvatron is making his final push…"

Swerve shook his head. "Not so sure about that. I'm reading many Decepticon signals 'cept for Trypticon and..."

"And?"

"Hm." Swerve clacked the keyboard with his fingers. "This can't be right. Let me run another scan."

"I'll take a team to the front lines and buy us some time," Rodimus said.

"Prime…" Swerve cast a raised brow at Rodimus. "That's what troops do. We need you here to command those troops."

This was the first time anybody had called him Prime at a time when it sounded like it fit. Swerve was right, he had been thinking like Hot Rod. He wanted to go out and fight Trypticon all on his own… but then who would lead the Autobots? "Right. Brace the hull. Get every able gunman to a gun and wait for my signal to fire."

"Alright. Now you're speaking my language."

A small speck showed up on Swerve's monitor. A small spaceship approached the Ark at intergalactic speed.

"Friendly or Baddie?" Rodimus asked. His fingers touched the keys, commandeering the automatic guns. He locked the targeting computer onto the approaching vessel.

Swerve scanned the monitor readings. "It's… it's a… a Junk vessel."

"No way. Wreck-Gar?"

"Yes. And he's got friends with him."

There was a moment's sigh of relief when the docking bay opened and the spaceship landed on the floor. Rodimus escaped the Command Deck to greet them. His circuits felt like they now pulsed at ten times the rate. It's the first good news he had heard.

The parked vessel's landing platform lowered. A tall, brown bot clamored down.

"We didn't want to settle for anything less. Only the best. And I wanted to be a Pepper too." Wreck-Gar emerged from the escape pod door as puffs of steam covered the ground in foamy wisps like an overflowing bubble bath.

Rodimus rushed toward him, embracing the crusty Junkion with both arms. Wreck-Gar's mustache and beard tickled his face.

"You picked the worst time to show up," Rodimus said.

Wreck-Gar swung his head side to side, his long red beard painting a red mark through the air. "What do you mean? It's prime time, baby. Don't touch that dial or you'll miss what's coming next."

"Who's that with you?"

"Just some jolly blokes who're itchin' to put up their dukes." Wreck-Gar made way to let the rest of the crew out. Repugnus, Grotusque and Double-Cross clamored down the loading ramp. "Introducing, Kid Dynamite, the Italian Stallion and the reigning champion, the Louisville Lip."

Rodimus staggered back when he realized how large and monstrous the three Autobots were. Compared to Wreck-Gar's tarnished and ramshackle body, the three were like a zoo of different animal bodies scrapped together at the last minute.

"Well, I'm sure glad you're on our side."

"Aww. That's cute," Repugnus said. He made a whistle. "The Prime's got the brass balls to look at us in the eye." He blinked his emerald insect eyes at him, all thousand of them. "Since you got yerselfs a mess, we'll take the payment in da rears."

Rodimus stiffened. "You mean… you'll only help us if we pay you?"

"Listen, Kid, this is a whack job and we're risking a limb or four fighting a million-year old dinosaur, so yeah. I think we deserve some comp, don't you?" He wriggled his fangs back and forth.

"I had no idea there were Autobots like you."

Double-Cross lowered his left head. "And now you know." The right head stayed up straight with a nonchalant grin, "And knowing's half the battle."

Wreck-Gar waved his hand to the cockpit. The pilot had yet to leave the ship. "And we got a freebie thrown in. After reaching Earth we picked him half-off up near the boonies."

A surprised Rodimus didn't recognize the new face, but he had the unforgettable appearance of a large white Earth chicken.

"So, this is the young new Prime."

Rodimus extended his hand to shake the feathers. "Um… It's a pleasure."

"No time for all that, the name's Bomber, but that's not important. I need to tell you all I know. You're in bigger trouble than you think. I was worked over by them Decepticons."

"You worked with them?"

Bomber shifted from side to side. "Only cuz no one else would. But they Double-Crossed me— No offense."

"None taken," Double-Cross said. "Speak for yourself."

Bomber cleared his vocalizer. "Anyway, you're in real flamin' fryin' pan. They deceived me."

"What did you expect from a Decepticon?"

"You got a point there. A real sore point."

"Rodimus…" Swerve ran up to the huddled group. He had scampered in from the western corridor. "The energy reading revealed another spark inside Trypticon. It's a small life-form."

The Autobots headed to the Command Deck in front of Teletran – 1 and Swerve's console. It was now becoming crowded with the jumble of new allies. Double-Cross's draconian heads scraped their horns slightly on the ceiling.

"See? Lookit that." Swerve pointed at the glowing light in the corner.

Bomber stooped. "Why that's a Titan Master signal."

Wreck-Gar shoved his nose as close as he could to the monitor. "Who's that strange beast from the east."

"Trypticon," Rodimus said. "He's a colossal monster… and he's headed this way."

"This is bonkers. Are all your problems 'Ho-Ho-Ho' Green Giant-sized? Don't you have any bite-sized issues to deal with?"

"Like what?"

"Like dropping anvils on crafty mice or catching road-runners?"

"Lately, I guess, it seems all my problems have been larger than I can handle… Wait a minute." He turned back to Bomber. "What does it mean? You said there's a Titan Master signal coming from inside Trypticon."

"I bet it's that little, scrappy, purple Decepticon, Necro. He high-tailed it out of the Decepticons' ship. He's a regular little beast."

"Any idea what's going on? Why's he in there?"

"If I had to guess, fella, you've got some trouble. Necro must've reactivated Trypticon's neural processor. The Nebulon's like a living black box. So long as he's plugged in, Trypticon's in charge. His personality is fully operational."

This changed everything. A flash appeared in Rodimus's eyes. "Do you think Galvatron's controlling him?"

"Hard to say," Bomber said. "What reason would an overgrown lizard want to come to this place, anyway?"

Rodimus knew immediately. "Come with me." The Autobots followed him to the service ramp which lead down into a series of chambers beneath the ark. A heavy iron-loaded door slid aside to let the Autobots through. There, Rodimus splayed his hand open before a large room to present to them what had been hiding under the Ark.

A chamber, three stories deep, and as large as a reception hall, lay within. The sounds of scurrying and mumbling hushed as Rodimus led the way for the newcomers inside. This chamber held three floors. Its iron walls were lined with cells and within the cells peaked out curious little Transformer heads. Each cell was like a little family home, and the Transformers, with their different, brightly-colored heads, turned to look at Rodimus's strange allies. There were several scurrying and skittering movements in the corner, as smoke and noise came from a forge. Bomber saw a clutch of Transformers gathered in a den. They were small. Some were missing limbs, others were in the midst of repairing others, while another squad measured out glowing canisters to prepare energon for the rest. Some were in the middle of a poker game, others were huddled around a computer screen or a television.

Wreck-Gar made animated expressions of shock using his shoulders. "A Titan Master Sanctuary!"

"Nebulons?" Bomber asked.

"Yes," Rodimus said. "We've been harboring many here. Nebulos is no longer safe. Their planet's in the middle of a civil war."

"Don't you know what you've got here?"

It should have been obvious. "People who need a home."

"They have many secrets." Bomber winked at the Prime. "That's why Trypticon is on his way here. He's found their scent. He'll destroy them."

"That won't happen. Wreck-Gar?"

The Junkion stepped forward, and folded his arms in thought. "Autobot City is the place for me. We'll give them a ride while you stall Trypticon here."

"That sounds good. You can give the Nebulons a lift to the city while I divert Trypticon's attention." He turned to face the Nebulons. They had already been edging closer from curiosity.

Rodimus didn't need to ask for their attention. When he stood with his shoulders squared and his legs firm under him, it was clear he had something important to say. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but the Ark is no longer safe... not while Trypticon and the Deceptions are on their way here. They're looking for Titan Masters to seize."

Several in the crowd whispered with concerned tones.

"I'm not going to allow anything to happen to you, or any Autobot. But we can't stay here. If we head to Autobot City, we'll be much safer. Wreck-Gar here will take you there. I'm sorry to do this, but I need everyone to grab their things and evacuate the Ark in the next ten minutes."

The crowd's fear was worse than Rodimus expected. The silence was razor thin. Perhaps it could've sounded a little better. He had tried to sound like Optimus, but maybe it sounded fake. The effect wasn't reassuring.

Three rough-looking Titan Masters stepped forward. Rodimus struggled to remember their names since there were so many, but he now remembered how these mischievous three had been known for breaking things aboard the Ark. Shuffler, Lione and Toraizer.

"We prefer to stay." "If it helps the others…" "We want to fight too."

After saying so, another three, nodding joined the group.

"The Decepticons are on their way," Rodimus said. "We need to get all of you out of here."

Kirk, Loafer, and Rodney; the thee new Nebulons; shook their heads. "No way." "Not for us." "We're tired of running. Let us fight with you." "Yeah. We'll buy the others some time."

"Very well." Rodimus turned to the Autobots. "As for the rest of you, Find a weapon and seal off the entrances."

They nodded. Wreck-Gar, Bomber, Grotusque, Double-Cross and Repugnus followed him back to the bridge.

Bomber moved in close to Rodimus's shoulder so only the Prime could hear him. "Those Titan Masters are wily. You ought to know… they're known to power decapitated bots and move them around."

Rodimus said nothing.

"It's one of their little tricks. Using someone else's body. Moving it around. It's how the Titan Master process was developed."

"Good to know."

"Rodimus! Rodimus!"

Rodimus held the bridge of his nose between his fingers and released a drawn-out sigh.

It was Swerve, holding the arm of a frightened human. The marine suit was torn to shreds and the man wearing it was bruised and exhausted. It looked as though Swerve had found him outside the Ark, dazed and haggard.

Rodimus' expression changed. The mayor was the last person he expected to find at the Ark. Rodimus flinched, wondering what had happened to him.

The mayor shook as he approached. "My whole… city… went for a walk. Walked away. Walked like a… a…"

He sounded delirious. Rodimus and Swerve looked at each other confused. Swerve touched the man on the shoulder, shaking him slightly as though the mayor were a stuck machine unable to move forward until the words came out. Bloom jerked violently, grabbing Swerve on the leg to pin him.

Bloom's eyes widened like a madman's. "You need to protect me. They'll come for me!"

"Bloom!" Rodimus bellowed. "Get it together. We're all in danger. It's not just you. Haven't you realized the threat we're under?"

"It's worse than that," Bloom said. He bit the top of his own hand. "I've… I've… this is all my fault."

"How?" Rodimus asked.

The mayor stared at him with eyes so wide with fear that Rodimus could see most of the whites. "I allowed the Decepticons to make changes to my city. Deep underground…"

Swerve and Rodimus stopped moving, gripped by his words.

"I… they… promised me… said they'd improve my city. I had no idea what they were doing. They made my city into a monster. It's why I wanted you gone. When I saw you and the female on street... I thought if you knew you'd cause trouble for me."

The monitor was blinking more frequently. The large red blob was edging closer. Soon it would be over the defensive hills displayed on the topographic map.

"Bloom... Because of your decisions, I have lost comrades." His shoulders shook. "Lost my friend… Streetwise. Because of greed." Rodimus sighed deeply. "Your sins… are too much… This is what your life will be remembered for."

Bloom pulled away from them. His jaw wagged open, as though expecting a more sympathetic comment from the leader of the Autobots. Instead, he had been reprimanded. For a moment, his face displayed a mask of terror and frustration. His black eyebrows then resumed their familiar arched scowl. "Your race is a blight. Every last one. You did this."

He pointed to Swerve and Rodimus with a shaky finger. "_You_ did this. And you." He stared at his own hands. "I was tricked by you. Manipulated by your technology."

Rodimus signaled to Swerve. It was time to go. They had wasted enough time with the mayor.

From the shadow of the stairwell another Autobot emerged, giving Bloom a start. "Who… who are you?"

It was Blades, with one arm held over his body from his injury. "I couldn't help overhear. I heard it all. About how you betrayed your own kind. Then you betrayed mine." Blades stepped toward the mayor.

"Stay away…" the mayor said. "Stay back!"

But Blades would do no such thing as he pulled out his knife.

Swerve resumed his post. "Trypticon's entered firing range."

"Battle Stations," Rodimus said. "Wait for my signal to fire. Listen everyone. Our fallen comrades will not have died in vain. The Ark is our base… We'll protect it to the last Autobot. Trypticon will be killed, right here. He won't make it past those mountains."

Swerve turned around in his swivel chair. "A little overkill, isn't it? Optimus would've"—

"I'm not Optimus."

The klaxons continued to blare, like a beating heart. Red alarm lights came in waves painting the Prime's face red in steady, sick intervals.

"… Right. You're right, Rodimus."

Rodimus felt the ground beneath his heels shake. A couple micro-cycles later, there was a second tremor, a little stronger than the first. Then came a third and it was strong enough to loosen dust from the roof and land on his head. Swerve changed the main screen to the south pointing camera. They had an outside view, grainy and blue, watching the road leading to the Ark. A black, rising shadow appeared over the hill's ridge, swirling in the heat.

Swerve's face lit up in confusion. "The frequency's being jammed."

"What the…"

The channel image was replaced like a grainy video recorded over the initial broadcast. The image became clear, as a triple-pronged helmet came into focus. Galvatron's face showed up, startling the Autobots in the Command Deck.

"Ah. Optimus's replacement. Hard to recognize you when you're not scurrying for cover."

Rodimus advanced to the screen. "Big talk, Galvatron."

"Do you like my new weapon?"

Rodimus shook his head. "Why don't you face me in person? And call off your big beast? Maybe you're too scared to face me." He smirked. "You know you'll get flung into space again."

"Pathetic," Galvatron said. His lips curved upward into a triumphant grin. "You have much to learn about being a leader… but training time is over."

"What do you want?"

"It's up to you, Hot Rod. You can surrender now and face your destiny like a brave Autobot… or you can continue to employ that heroic nonsense and put all your allies' lives at risk. Think about what a Prime would do in your shoes. Consider how much less pain your Autobots would suffer if not for your pride. Would you trade them for your arrogance? You don't have the might nor leadership qualities to get them through any hardship." Galvatron reclined slightly, retreating from the camera. "I'm not without mercy. Think about your choice now… What would Prime do?"

Rodimus turned to look over his left shoulder. Behind him stood Swerve and Wreck-Gar, Bomber and his accomplices. There were also the six Nebulons. Their worried, metallic faces gnawed at him. In his mind's eye he thought of Arcee and Leinad, of Magnus and Kup… of Springer and Blurr... of Optimus.

He reached across the console for the control switch. "I _am_ a Prime." Then he flicked the screen off and video image fizzled out.

Wreck-Gar crossed his arms and tsked tsked at the floor. "Who's that big ugly guy, anyway?"

"He's Galvatron… leader of the Decepticons."


	18. Chapter 18

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Ricky Ricardo stared glumly at Lucy, the two living their monochrome television lives. "This whole thing is my fault," he said. "Something I said that started this whole mess."

"What's that?" Lucy asked.

"I do."

The Decepticons were huddled near each other in the bridge of their spaceship. Arms slung over their pilot chairs and their backs slumped into the chairs. Lucy then appeared onscreen.

"This whole thing is Ricky's fault," she said.

"My fault?!" Ricky said.

"Yeah, if you hadn't left Cuba to come to America, we wouldn't have gotten married and we never would've come to Switzerland in the first place."

Kreb slicked down the back of his head. "There's a lot of brains under all that curly red hair. You're right Lucy. You're right."

Brisko twirled his pen in boredom.

Fangry, standing behind the seats, turned to look away. His yellow eye crackled, making a harsh sound, and he raised his hand to cover it. He winced. The electric pulses were getting stronger. He plugged in an audio drive into his receptor components. Kreb knew what he was listening to. It was the same thing he always listened to when he wanted to feel calm. His receptors were jacked into Pink Floyd's Dark of the Moon. The yellow eye's crackling stopped. It was a moment's pause, a welcome relief. One that was over too soon.

The static of the screen became distorted. The Decepticons paused to look at the failing monitor, wary of any electrical interference. The screen changed to display a familiar shadow with a triple-pronged crown.

"Lord… Lord Galvatron," Kreb said, his body jackknifed to a straight standing position. "Such a surprise. I had no idea you made house calls. How'd you get our number? We're unlisted."

"Quite a little machine-gun mouth runs on you. If you're aim is as good as your tongue, then you'll be finding yourself swimming up the ranks very quickly."

The others stood at attention.

"Quite an interesting bunch, you six. I'm pushing on the Autobots' front line. I need you now. Trypticon's making movement to the Autobot Ark. I need ground cover for him while he makes his move. I'm hoping you won't disappoint me."

"It's an honor, Lord Gal-va-tron," Horri-Bull said.

"We'll make our way to the Ark," Squeeze said, snapping his finger.

The corners of Galvatron's mouth raised into a sinister grin. "Watch for the Prime. If you see him, try and separate him from the rest. That is all." The feed from Galvatron then cut out leaving the screen blank.

They grumbled as they packed their guns.

"There's no profit in this," Lokos said. "I never should've signed up for this mistake of a mission."

Horri-Bull locked and loaded. But he thought he heard a clicking sound and began to disassemble his pistol. He needed to find a filament brush to clean it.

"No time for that now," Fang growled. "We gotta go."

"Fangry…" Brisko tucked his pen into his waist compartment. "I know you don't want to be my partner. But if you would try it once, you'd see how much better you and I could do in battle. I don't want to end up in the scrapyard any more than you do."

Fangry holstered his blaster, ignoring Brisko.

"I still don't get why you'd go through all the trouble of having Bomber modify you for being able to merge if you're so against doing it."

That yellow eye on Fangry crackled a couple times. He relaxed his shoulders as if to relieve his mind of some thought, but he didn't say anything. Instead he let the moment pass by and when it became awkward in the silence, he proceeded to finish assembling his battle gear without another word.

"Fangry…"

The wolf-like Decepticon punched the wall on his left with a loud bang. He smashed a hole into it two meters deep. It meant the conversation was over. The team left the spaceship without another exchange.

When they arrived at the perimeter of the Ark, the gang found themselves on a battlefield peppered with cannon fire and smoke. Overhead, they heard the screech of jets and spotted, in the air, their comrades Slugslinger and Triggerhappy and several other Decepticon fighters dogfighting with the Autobot Aerialbots. The sky was lit up like a field of fireworks. Fifty meters north was their target, the giant rusted door, which served as the entrance to the Ark. The metal was five meters thick, and their job was to blow a hole through it. There was no time for subtlety. No room for a grand plan. Besides, it was in their nature to come out swinging rather than sneak their way in. However, for these six, a false move could be disastrous. They would have better protection if they stormed in with their beast forms. Their hides would defend better.

Fangry sneered after he had scanned the perimeter. "Hmm. Are there no others? Where's our support?"

They made a swift run for the door. Squeezeplay lunged forward, claws outstretched. He was quickly overcome by the swiftness of Horri-Bull's four hooves. And then Fangry took charge, being more lithe in his animal form. The black wolf with leather wings made a serpentine run toward the base.

As they approached, a shrill cry broke overhead from the doorway. From above the door's threshold leapt three figures to the ground. They were familiar faces.

It was the monsterbots. Squeezeplay, eager to settle the score, snapped his hungry pincers. Brisko made no sudden moves, he looked at Fangry with a stiff collar.

Repugnus, Double-Cross and Grotusque had landed between the Decepticons and the giant door. Grotusque snickered and Double-Cross struck a menacing pose with his double-headed dragon body, but it came out looking more goofy than threatening. It was Repugnus who spoke for the trio as usual.

"You guyz nevah learn. Goin' straight for the front door? I don't know how we keep runnin' into each other. I imagine someday you morons will pick a fight with the wrong Autobot on the battlefield. Then we'd nevah party like this again."

Squeezeplay put himself in front of the others.

"We ain't like you, Pug." He wasn't going to mingle. Those simple words were good enough for him. "You three shoulda never copied us." His reptilian lips sneered.

Repugnus's green, insect eyes flickered. "Enough. Hoo-Har!"

When their three adversaries transformed into their bot forms, the Decepticons knew they planned to use their Titan Master's powers. The Autobots' bellies opened their chambers, and, just like their battle on the Junkion Cruiser, the three Nebulon riders emerged. They had ridden the Autobots as though their larger partners were walking mechanical suits. And now they transformed and became the heads of their partners. The Decepticons wasted no time. Fueled with the power of the Nebulons, the combined forms of the Autobots would be too much to handle.

Lokos and Kreb followed suit, combining with Squeezeplay and Horri-Bull to even the playing field, however, Fangry stayed as far from Brisko as possible, making those two obvious, weaker targets.

Squeezeplay fended off artillery from Repugnus. "This is the final countdown."

"For you maybe," Repugnus said.

Grotusque giddily dodged the missiles fired from Horri-Bull. "Tsk Tsk." He wagged a finger at Bull. "Or should I say, Tusk, Tusk?"

Horri-Bull unloaded a searing shot of corrosive clouds. "You talk too much."

Brisko and Fangry, meanwhile, had a hard time dealing with Double-Cross. Because of Double-Cross's transformation, his dragon mouths were now his hands and he could spray fire from both of his mouth-hands.

When Double-Cross showered a stream of flame at Fangry, his eye pulsed again. Everything became a blur in that moment. His vision slowed way down. The edges of his vision darkened. No, he thought. Not now.

In his mind's eye he witnessed himself looking down on himself. A vision of himself, trembled in a cowering stance, standing on a cold slab of concrete. He couldn't see what lay in area around him as it was cast in an obscuring dark. But twisting shapes wriggled in the shadow only paces away from him and all around him. The menacing darkness approached with its tendrils lashing out. The image of Fangry swiped his claws at the darkness, looking like a raving blind man. He wheeled about and snarled. Every time he rent one of these inky tendrils, another would come and replace it like a hydra's heads. He howled harshly. The ropey darkness snapped and whipped at him.

"Get away… Get Away!"

Brisko jumped backward to escape from Fangry. He had no clue what had come over the Decepticon. Fangry had started snarling and rampaging in circles, clawing at the air indiscriminately. Brisko saw the yellow eyes of his comrade had flickered out, and his movements suggested a blindness had come over him. A phantom appeared to be tormenting him, taunting Fangry with invisible threat.

"The door…" he said. "The door is open…"

"Fang!" Brisko yelled. "Snap out of it!" He waved his hands in front of him to try to get his attention. And it seemed to have partially worked. Fangry grabbed his head as though it were in pain. His eye rolled around in its socket, taking in the surroundings.

The battlefield was bursting with noise. Overhead, Decepticon jets, Slugslinger and Triggerhappy finished scattering Aerialbots. They pulled a return loop to land in the hills on the other side of the battlefield. Squeezeplay and Horri-Bull were still struggling with Repugnus and Grotusque, but that wasn't all.

"We're even now," Horri-Bull said. "Even playing field." He raised his gun to fire again and pulled the trigger, only no shot fired. Bull looked at his fire-arm, bewildered. The gun had jammed. No, he thought. Imp-possible.

The momentary diversion left the Decepticons wide open. Shots were fired from the hills and they struck Horri-Bull and Squeezeplay in the gut and back, causing them to topple over.

There were other Transformers hiding in the rocky hills, waiting with cradled rifles. Fangry only now noticed them. He rushed to the flank of his comrades.

Brisko's grip on him not been strong. And now he struggled to rush behind him, hoping he could warn him in time. "Fangry, wait!"

Fangry felt a slamming sensation strike his back. He never guessed he would be fired upon in such a cowardly way from behind. The Decepticon wolf fell forward, landing on his face.

From the rocky outcropping, Blade's rifle smoked from the discharge. Seeing the fallen Fangry on the dirt, Blades crept closer. His right hand held a long crimson knife.

Brisko desperately shook the fallen Deception's shoulder. He needed him transformed into the wolf. "You've got to wake up, Fangry," Brisko said. "Wake up now!" Fangry remained unconscious on the dirt floor. Brisko had no choice. He transformed himself and activated Fangry's transformation cog. And for the first time Brisko connected to Fangry.

Brisko's vision went dark for a moment, then the feedback came in, but it wasn't what he expected. Brisko found himself in a dark room. All images and sounds from the battlefield had disappeared. A door lay before him. Was this a door of the mind? It was ajar just enough to hear screaming on the other side. That door's hinges were rusted shut, but there was a crack open an inch and the sounds on the other side were horrifying. Brisko rose to stand and crept to the door. He placed his hand on the black door and paused. He held himself steady, bracing himself for what was to come. The he pushed open the door.

Inside he discovered another black room and an overhead lamp rocked back and forth, casting its light on a chair. On that chair sat Fangry—his magenta body crouched over and his green face stared at the floor.

Brisko, at the doorway, listened for what he thought was Kreb's voice, yelling at him. But the sound was far away like it was muffled, as though Kreb were under water. Brisko turned back to look at the scene inside the room with the chair. There was someone else inside that room.

Someone paced around the chair in a circle and around Fangry. A red and black Decepticon pounded his footsteps against the floor. He held his arms behind his back the way a prison warden would, and he yelled at the top of his voice.

"I am your leader. I make the rules. And you follow. You have never understood how to obey command." He took out a lash and smacked Fangry across the face. He smacked him over and over. The Decepticon retrieved the lash.

"For years I tried to curb your rebellious nature. For the last thousand years, you've been the only one under my command to disobey me and you're the blight of my squad—The weakest link in a chain that I've forged delicately over time, and I won't have it torn apart." He turned to look at Fangry.

Fangry knew those eyes. It was the eyes that had hated him every single day for the last thousand years.

"You want to say something to me?" He said, holding his lash at his side. "Well, now you've gone and got my attention. You've messed up so bad that it's brought you to me. This is your chance. When we leave here, there's only going to be one thing accomplished. My squad is like a chain, right? Strong, unbreakable. And it will be…"

"But only after I've broken you."

He gripped Fangry by the collar and yanked him off the chair and shoved his nose to Fangry's. "You're a curse and a menace. Weak… pathetic." He slapped Fangry. "You're a wretch… a loser who never succeeds at anything." He rose his hand to strike again.

Fangry held himself back. He tried his best to look away from those eyes. Then his fur bristled and Fangry's eyes became dim and has face slackened. The body stood up as though puppeteered. And he transformed into his beast mode.

"What are you doing? Change back this instant. Don't make a bigger fool of yourself."

Fangry crept towards him.

"Sit down."

And Fangry stopped.

"I gave you and order."

Brisko turned when he heard thundering footsteps approach. Outside the room, Squeezeplay and Horri-Bull were storming to the door. Terrible noises came from inside the room. Shrill cries of extreme terror escaped from the room. Squeeze and Bull entered the chamber, racing right past Brisko. "What happened! What did you do? Fangry? Fang!"

Strewn on the floor was a pile of limbs torn from their sockets, the body had been torn to shreds. They looked at Fangry with horrified eyes.

Fangry carried a worried expression. He appeared frantic. He stared at the floor, unable to believe what he had done. And his eyes looked damaged now. The yellow eye crackled involuntarily.

Fangry roared, seeing the commander on the ground and he realized he had butchered the Decepticon leader himself with his own claws. He transformed back into a wolf and Brisko stayed merged with him.

The dark room vanished. It was replaced by the blue sky and the tawny ground. Squeezeplay and Horri-Bull were surrounded. An Autobot with a long knife slashed at both of them, spilling oil from their torsos on the ground. The two Decepticons fell to earth. The sudden realization that Blades loomed overhead with drawn knives in hand, sent Fangry into a frenzy. He leapt at Blades with outstretched claws. And Blades swung at the lunging wolf. The two rent and maimed each other. Brisko engaged his Titan Master ability. He fed Fangry an enormous swell of energy. Fangry moved with a craze like he had overdosed on axel-adrenaline. Fangry managed to cut down Blades and Blades slumped into a pile. Then he lunged at Repugnus, Grotusque and Double-Cross, ripping and shredding. The monsterbots had enough. They ran from the battlefield and dove behind the hillside.

Blades glared at Fangry. "Heh heh."

Fangry stepped back, the frenzy ebbing away. Brisko detached. He looked at the fallen Blades and then back at Fangry. "It's okay big guy. Know I know. You did what you had to."

Fangry shook his head. "It wasn't me."

Brisko paused.

"It was the beast."

Blade could be heard coughing. Between his sputtering, they made out parting words. "Too bad…" He stared at both of them.

Blades struggled on his words. "This universe… is damned." Then his gaze fell on Fangry who was still panting from the fight. The wolf heaved heavily. His claws were covered in runny oil. "There's no mercy for our existence. Which is why we're forced to fight. Autobots and Decepticons are cursed since the beginning to end like this." He pointed a shaking finger at Fangry. "The universe was only built… for guys like you… and me…" Then the lights of his optics turned off.


	19. Chapter 19

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Land-quakes could be felt now. The shadow of Trypticon drew closer. So now the small Decepticon band huddled and felt the chaos around them. Their adversaries, the Autobot Monsterbots, had deserted the fight and hid in the pores of the mountains. They had done what they could for the Autobots, or perhaps, thought Horri-Bull, they were too smart to stay in a senseless battle. He looked at Squeezeplay, clutching his midsection, he was damaged once again. Fangry had more knife scars than before the battle started. They were risking their lives for a Decepticon cause which didn't care about them. They had no backup. Despite how many Autobots they dealt with, no other Decepticons had come to their aid. Horri-Bull took a glance at his pistol. The gun had jammed on him. He sighed black clouds and shoved it back in his holster.

Laser fire and cannon drummed furiously across the field. The explosions rang in Rodimus's ears. Machine guns spun their coils of ammunition. The rattle of missile casings scattered over the dirt. Tunneling rockets ruptured the air. All these shattered against the hide of the upright armored enemy. When a moment's pause managed to linger in between the bursts of gunfire, the Autobots were able to assess what impact their defenses had against their brutish invader.

Their eyes traveled up the scaling tower of metal searching for signs that their adversary had been wounded. Pouts appeared on the faces of the watchful Autobots. Their enemy had borne the brunt of their gunfire and suffered little. The plating of its skin was thick, like the difference between a Sudanese rhinoceros is to an undulating jellyfish—thick, as a rabbit's hide is to an old elephant.

Trypticon tamped his tail playfully. It was inferred as a taunt, as if to say, "Now that you've become aware of this exercise in futility, I can carry on with your misery." The tail did not wag joyously for long, however. There was a rocky outcropping behind the Ark, a cliff wall where the Ark had been lodged into, and it obscured a huge secret. From behind it lumbered a towering figure nearly as large as Trypticon himself.

Omega Supreme had been hiding in wait for the opportune moment. He was the Ark's defender and Trypticon was everything Omega had sworn to defend against. The Autobot guardian raised his left arm, which ended in a waiting cannon and loosened a huge fireball at the beast. The shockwave rippled across the battlefield. It rattled the windows of the Ark and deafened the Autobot's ears.

The blow was a massive hit against Trypticon's belly who fell to his knees after receiving the blast. The tail slapped angrily against the floor.

"Alright, Omega!" Rodimus said, his fist pumped into the air.

"Your plan worked, Rodimus!" Swerve said, extending a high five.

Omega reloaded his immense arm cannon. His orange, expressionless face gleaned under his helmet. "Title… Guardian… Greeting… Delivered."

From the hills, a pack of small Nebulons emerged. They swept Trypticon's torso with fire from their guns. These were Rodimus's volunteers who eagerly entered the battlefield to join with Omega. Their firepower, however, did very little to the beast's thick skin. They might as well have attacked a mountain. And it roared back.

"Fools. Sheh," Trypticon. "You stand before of a Titan. Gruh."

Omega paused, computing his words with care. "Adversary… satisfying. Future… predictable… Kaboom… inevitable…" Omega's face never expressed emotion, but one could take his silent stare as a sardonic smile.

Trypticon reared back. He crouched into a knelt position and opened his metal jaws. Omega crouched to become as small a target as possible which was hard when you were the size of a mountain. Then Trypticon blew a huge, fiery crimson beam from his maw which swept over Omega, cloaking him in a blaze.

The laser didn't let up, it continued pouring out from Trypticon like an endless waterfall. Omega became bathed in the fiery plasma, unable to escape the stream. Omega raised his arm and aimed it at Trypticon's mouth. He fired at the Titan. The projectile flew within the stream of crimson energy, cutting through it and striking Trypticon's open jaws. The beast's jaws shut closed. He wobbled, momentarily losing balance.

Horri-Bull watched the giants from the ground. The Titans were the size of spaceships. He stared at his gun, which might as well have been a leaf-blower trying to push a dumpster truck. He and his five allies might as well have been dust. Horri-Bull shook his head. "Let's get out of here."

There was no argument from his comrades. The others needed no further thought; they picked themselves up and trudged from the battlefield. Watching from a dirt foxhole lurked Slugslinger.

He had been watching the Decepticons. He nudged his partner Triggerhappy in the side to draw his attention. He pointed at Horri-Bull and those fleeing Deceptions.

"Well, well," Slugslinger said. "A coward on the battlefield."

Triggerhappy snorted. "Haw. Galvatron'll get a kick out of this."

"Galvatron doesn't need to know anything." Slugslinger lowered his scope to target Horri-Bull and took aim at his back. If his aim was right, Slugslinger would hit that vital spot and Horri-Bull wouldn't leave the battlefield alive. And Slugslinger never missed. "Too bad you had to leave so soon."

Triggerhappy let out another howl. His friend was known for shooting his enemies in the back.

"Goodbye, cow." Slugslinger squeezed the trigger, but didn't finish firing. He paused when he saw the shadow covering him. The ground shuddered around him and Triggerhappy.

Slugslinger became irritated. "What's this?"

Trypticon had stooped over them, lowering his snout above. He opened his jaws. They were close enough to hear the rattle of mechanical grinding. Trypticon's breath, a turbine of wind and sparks, drenched them with moisture. Then they felt their bodies yanked off the ground. A gravitational force pulled them off their feet and drew them to Trypticon's waiting mouth. Slugslinger's face twisted with surprise. Triggerhappy stopped snickering. They realized they were about to be ripped apart. Triggerhappy fired his gun with abandon trying to nail anything that would stop Trypticon. He only stopped firing when he ran out of ammo. Triggerhappy let out a nervous laugh. Then it became louder, evolving into a loud belly laugh. And Slugslinger, seeing his partner laughing like a delirious idiot, could do nothing but laughed too. They laughed all the way as he and Triggerhappy were swept in and the jaws of Trypticon shut on them.

Omega shuddered at what he had just witnessed.

Trypticon's eyes flashed, his movements were less sluggish now and the lights of his body glowed brighter.

While the Titan was distracted, the small Transformer pack that had been assisting Omega by battering Trypticon with gunfire had raced on to the battlefield. The small Titan Masters—Loafer, Kirk, Shuffler and their three comrades—advanced and unfurled firepower from their weapons at Trypticon.. The Titan glowered down at them.

Omega realized Trypticon's thoughts and the vain thing they were doing and threw himself forward to get between them and the beast.

Trypticon spun around and slammed his tail into Omega's side, knocking him to the ground.

Then he pointed his snout toward them and opened his maw. He pulled the Titan Masters with a gravitational beam. The Titan Masters on the ground were ripped from the ground, hurled into the air like cornflakes from a tossed bowl. Trypticon focused his gravity beam upon them and reeled them in. The poor tiny Transformers fired the weapons frantically, blasting at the roof of the monster's mouth. Trypticon sucked them into his jaws and crushed them into his mouth.

"Tasty! What a satisfying crunch!"

"Barbarian… Die!" Omega launched himself at the reptile. His arms and legs hammered on the black plating. Every gun on Omega's body assaulted the beast.

Trypticon grappled Omega's leg in his teeth and pulled Omega off his feet. Then he slammed the Autobot to the ground.

The Autobot groaned. A bright light emerged in Trypticon's eyes. Several beacons on his metal flesh shined fiercely. His legs moved with a hastened virility. Trypticon raised himself up in strange stupor, as though he were drunk with euphoria. Trypticon kicked the fallen defender in the chest and the kick sent him rolling over himself. The heavy tail lashed upon Omega's body, ripping metal skin. Then the light of Omega Supreme's eyes lit up and faded like a candle snuffed out. Trypticon roared and fired a barrage of missiles and lasers onto the fallen giant. A burst of flame erupted in Omega's red midsection. And the flame became an oil fire, spreading throughout his body.

The Titan's tail raised rigid in the air and lashed the ground triumphantly. He turned his sights on the Ark and licked his reptilian lips.

The command deck was silent. The crew looked at the monitor with dread. Rodimus held his breath, before he took the communicator and delivered what was about to be a wretched message that made his belly servos squirm.

"Attention all Autobots. Evacuate the Ark immediately. We are under attack. Evacuate the Ark. Protect the refugees and get them out to Autobot city." He repeated the line… and couldn't believe it was his mouth delivering the words. It was him saying the things he never wanted to hear.

He hadn't realized that astro-seconds had elapsed. Alarms and the lights had been silent to him. He hadn't realized he had gone numb until he felt Swerve shaking his arm.

"Rodimus! Rodimus!"

His blue optics flickered. The first sign to Swerve that he was responsive. "Come on, Rodimus. We gotta get outta here."

Rodimus floated as if in a trance. He moved along with the others, giving orders, evacuating troops and it felt all of it was in autopilot. Nothing registered. In a word, robotic. He turned to look over his shoulder at Teletran-1's computer monitor… and didn't stop staring until Swerve yanked him by the shoulder. He was thrust into the evacuation tunnel with the others. The iron door slammed shut behind them.

"Omega… we need to go back for him," Rodimus said.

"Prime… He knew… what his mission was. He knew what he needed to do to help defend the Autobots. If you go out there to save him now, everything he's done will be for nothing."

Rodimus became silent, he knew Swerve was right, and hated what he was doing anyway. It was with regret that he transformed into vehicle mode and called out the usual action command, but it was hollow. Empty.

Trypticon turned to the defenseless Ark and shuffled forward. The columns of his feet smashed upon the old spaceship's hull, shattering it and collapsing the rock walls upon it. These clashing stones were the knells of defeat. Canon fire fell from Trypticon's shoulders, drenching the Ark, then like setting a torch to kindling, he breathed a fiery breath upon it.

Rodimus watched the Ark, which had harbored the last of the Autobots to Earth, and later served as their base over the last three decades, squashed under the Decepticon's foot. Part of Optimus' legacy was now destroyed. Something that had belonged to every Autobot was now erased. And it had been under the watch of Rodimus.


	20. Chapter 20

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"Get everyone inside!" A young Autobot stood at the entrance to Autobot City, waving his arms at the incoming Autobots. Rodimus's truck, the Protectobots and the other soldiers from the Ark passed over the bridge into Autobot City. They were still being pursued by the Decepticon's aerial soldiers. Rodimus lead the way for the smaller Autobot vehicles behind him, trying to urge them to get within Autobot city immediately. The Decepticon fighter planes would fire down on them from the skies. It was like trying to escape the rain, no matter how fast they were, the bullets would still find them. Once they had driven within the perimeter of the city, the fighter plans broke formation and ended pursuit. The smoking rampart guns had helped to dissuade them.

The young red and white Autobot signaled to lookouts on the skyscaper towers. "Activate Defenses. Hurry! He's on his way."

Slammer, the city's guardian rolled up in his tank mode to the young Autobot. "That's everyone. Lock it all down. We need to buy Metroplex time. His transformation cog is still not functional." He was low on energy, heaving from running around. "Curse the Prime. We're sitting ducks until the cog gets fixed."

"Don't worry. Autobot City still has a few tricks up its sleeves." The red and white Autobot pointed to the long barrels of the city's cannons and turrets, all of which were pointing to the hill that Trypticon would be coming from any minute now. Six-Gun would make sure every bullet case would be exhausted before he let Autobot City get trampled. He pounded Slammer's fist. "Let's do this. So long as these guns are working, he'll have a helluva time getting close to Metroplex."

Slammer released a cavernous sigh.

On the eastern side of Autobot city, a violet Cybertronian car emerged from the woods. Full-Tilt, Trypticon's minion, rolled closer to the city. He had intercepted the message. "Hmm. We'll see about that. Brunt, did you catch that?"

"Sure did. We should let Trypticon know before he gets here."

"No need. You and I can pave the way for him." He loaded fresh rounds into his rifle.

Full-Tilt snuck around to the back. He pointed out a communication dish overlooking the turret towers. These turrets would be receiving feedback from this dish. The communication dish, spotted from his low vantage point, sat atop a skyscraper fifty yards north and accessible by an overhead bridge. Full-Tilt could see a rooftop access on the second building, making it the better target. Both of the buildings were inside of a raised defense wall and the wall was protected by unmanned turrets. If he could get past the wall, he would have access to the second building and then he could cross the bridge and knockout the communication dish. He relaxed his servos. Taking out the turrets was not a problem. The real worry would be if he were spotted by an Autobot. He could get easily gunned down from the back while climbing that ladder to the roof, but it was worth doing if Trypticon were to succeed.

Full-Tilt approached a segment of the wall that appeared less guarded. Most of the Autobots were on the other side of the city, readying for Trypticon, so that they left this side less defended. He waited with Brunt, crouched in a ditch a few paces from the wall. Brunt readied his shoulder cannon to fire on the wall. Full-Tilt waited to give him the signal. The moment was coming.

With backs facing the wall, they had the view of the woodlands before them. These were woods near Autobot City where a few scraggy shrubs and twisty trees grew. An alarming sound drew their attention. A twig had snapped at the forest's edge. A scared doe, no doubt fearing the sound of the bombs going off in the distance, scampered into the thicket. Full-Tilt watched the fearful animal as it disappeared deeper behind the obscuring branches. It had sensed the danger and leapt into the darkness of the forest on instinct. There was something about that untethered wild animal… what was it? Full-Tilt thought, maybe it was somehow noble for departing so swift without a moment's hesitation.

They heard a loud explosion detonate on the other side of the city. It was good enough. He signaled to Brunt. Brunt took aim and fired. He blew a hole ten feet wide into the barrier. The blast should have been masked by the sound of the explosions going off. The Autobots wouldn't detect them on this side unless someone were near the wall. It was worth the risk. He and Brunt leapt from the underside of the hill and sprinted to the wall. They entered the city through the smoking hole and came through with drawn guns.

No Autobots greeted them. It was a clear shot to the building from here. Just past a power-lift crane.

Full-Tilt and Brunt transformed into a car and a tank and rolled to the building, kicking up rocks from their rear wheels in their haste.

Before they reached the roof access ladder, gunfire hailed over them from above. Spoke too soon.

They both transformed. From the skies appeared Six-Gun. He transformed from a jet to his bot mode and landed in front of the ladder. He pointed two rifles at them.

"We're not as dumb as you think," he said. "Thought someone might try somethin' sneaky atta time like this."

Full-Tilt shoved Brunt toward the power-lift crane. "Get to cover, move it!"

Six-Gun peppered them with gun shot. The two purple Decepticons hid behind the crane. Six-Gun turned on his wrist communicator. "This is Six-Gun. I'm at section B-1, humbly requesting some back-up. I know we got a bigger problem right now, but we got 'Con's sneaking through the back wall. There's been a breach!"

Return fire came at him from the crane. The two 'Cons had taken the advantage while he was yelling into the communicator.

Slammer's grizzled voice responded. "What are they after?"

"I think they're trying to destroy the Defense Grid's control system."

"That's no good. Not on my watch."

"Where're you at?"

"I'm making contact in 3… 2… 1…"

Brunt swiveled his head to his left, alerted to the thundering of running footsteps clopping closer. He saw Slammer's bulky body flying at him to tackle him. Brunt turned his cannon. But he realized it had been too late when Slammer bashed into him before he was ready.

The surprise attack caught both Brunt and Full-Tilt off-guard. The two tumbled sideways and fell out in the open, away from the safety of the power crane.

Six-Gun raised his pistols and fired like crazy.

With Slammer and Brunt on Six-Gun's left, Six-Gun left his right side vulnerable. Full-Tilt made use of the distraction, became a car, and made a dive toward Six-Gun. Full-Tilt slammed into Six-Gun's middle. The Autobot buckled under the car's weight. They collapsed to the ground and grappled each other.

The four foes pummeled each other at this close range against their adversary, none realizing the fifth Transformer approach. Arcee stepped in at this moment, drawing her heavy black pistol from her hip. She lowered the barrel and aimed. Then when there was a lull in the flinging punches, she fired.

Six-Gun staggered back, unsure who had fired or who had been fired upon.

Slammer tossed Brunt onto the Deception's back, flattening him on the ground.

Then Full-Tilt gripped his side, he had been struck by Arcee.

Brunt transformed back into a tank and fired at Slammer. The white Autobot did likewise, becoming a tank himself and firing back, destroying a fuel tank near the building. The heavy firepower filled the area with smoke and debris. Six-Gun's vision was momentarily clouded.

With quick thinking, Six-Gun turned on his rotor blades to blow away the smoke. When he had gusted the debris away, he could see that Full-Tilt had made a run for it, he scaled the ladder and made it to the top of the building. Six-Gun launched himself as a jet into the air.

He landed right in front of Full-Tilt before the Decepticon reached the Communication Dish.

"Enough bouncing around, pinball." He drew his weapons and shot Full-Tilt in the chest.

Brunt, watching from below, raised the muzzle of his cannon and fired at Six-Gun. The missile erupted on the underside of the bridge.

The Autobot felt the missile explode underneath him as the bridge collapsed. Six-Gun fell forward, grabbing the ledge of the broken bridge and hung for his life.

Full-Tilt, still clutching at his fractured midsection, leapt over the broken bridge and landed on the other side. He now had a clean path to the communication dish and sprinted. He pumped his legs more fiercely than he ever had. He was just about in range. This was it, the last thing standing in Trypticon's way. There came the feeling of a blow on his back like several hammers had smashed into him from behind. He fell forward just a couple paces from the Communication Dish and his hand stretched to grab the lever. Just a little too far.

Six-Gun was stunned. Arcee plugged her pistols back into their holsters. She had fired all her guns and nailed Full-Tilt in the back, which had saved the tower.

Arcee sighed with relief. Slammer turned back into his Bot mode, relieved. The moment's victory was short lived.

Neither could have seen the bomb Full-Tilt had deployed in front of himself. He threw it at the dish where it magnetized to the metal. Then he slumped over onto the floor and his red visor began to ebb its ruby light on and off, weak with frailty. His arms drooped lifeless at his sides. Oh well, he thought. At least the mission was a success. His visor dimmed black, the final image of a white doe scampering into the brush, disappearing. Then the explosion bloomed and the Communication Dish burst into flame and leaned over and snapped from tower, before it fell from the skyscraper, destroyed.

It was over, the city's defenses were down.

Cyclonus swooped over the city. He noticed the turrets were no longer firing at his jet body. "Lord Galvatron, the city's defenses are non-operational."

"Excellent," Galvatron replied. "The path is cleared… for the Autobot massacre."


	21. Chapter 21

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Rodimus grimaced inside the control room tower. The lumbering body of Trypticon loomed closer. It would be just like it was at the Ark—the whole thing destroyed. And now the only thing that could save them was if Metroplex transformed. The Decepticons had stopped attacking. They knew it would be pointless to prolong the fight against the Autobots when Trypticon would end the battle soon. Rodimus leaned against the window, he placed his hands on the glass to peer at the city. The Decepticons had managed to knock out their frontal defense cannons, leaving their eastern side exposed to a siege. The guns could be controlled manually, but there weren't enough Autobots to take every gun. Essentially, they were sitting ducks.

"I need Metroplex now. Is his transformation cog fixed?"

Scamper answered the transmission. His voice echoed like he was in a tunnel. "I'm in his transformation chamber. The cog's working fine."

"Then what's the—"

"I don't know, Prime. Looks like there's nothing stopping him from transforming. I think it's just a matter of him choosing not to."

"Why would he…" Rodimus stared out the window. He saw the silent towers, the white buildings resting, while a cerulean sky painted it overhead as though nothing were wrong. But in the alleys and streets, Rodimus saw his comrades fighting with the Deceptions. One getting shot after the other. He spotted Arcee and Blaster and Grimlock on a low roof firing at Decepticons climbing the wall… and then it dawned on Rodimus. The entire city was fighting together—as if the city itself were fighting as one. Rodimus stepped away from the window. He happened to catch the red reflection of himself in the window and for a moment he made a mistake. He thought he saw a transparent Optimus…

The image made him shake. Then he gathered his nerves. It saddened him. "Optimus… I need you… I need your help." He felt a warmth in his chest. A glowing light emanated from his breastplate and he realized the Matrix had quietly responded. He became aware of a growing sound of moving machinery and the sight of changing landscape before his eyes.

Several towers collapsed, sheathing within the buildings' side panels. The city streets bent upwards and folded down on their ramps. Two large white arms emerged from the city heights and then the knees buckled and a black head emerged from a white building crowned with ruby red smokestacks on either side of the head. A giant body emerged from a sentient city. Then with a mighty slump, every panel and protrusion had collapsed into place.

Metroplex raised his head so his crimson eyes were in line with the beast. He knelt on his knee with his side facing Rodimus' command tower.

Rodimus couldn't tell if Metroplex could see him or not through the window of his tower. Perhaps he could see him through the corner of his eye. Metroplex made no response or nod in Rodimus' direction, but he felt something from the giant. Even though he made no gesture or signal, Rodimus felt the unwavering feeling that Metroplex knew the Prime was watching him. And now, as he rose from his knees to his full height, it seemed Metroplex was saying, Behold now, Prime, what I must do. We both have our mission and neither must fail.

Metroplex towered over everything. His shoulders were high enough to disrupt atmosphere. At his height, Trypticon measured a slight head—a Titan's head—below his own. He was more than ready to grapple the monster.

"Metroplex!" A shriek from the city reached the white Titan's ear. He turned to look at the city street where it had come from. The call was heard down in the road, in an alley where a bench and a control station that looked like an old-fashioned payphone lay nestled between two large city-planted trees. A lone red and white Autobot stood near the giant hydraulic station. He was still shouting to get the Titan's attention. He only stopped waving his hand when the Titan spotted him. "Give him what for!" The Autobot eagerly slammed the hydraulic station's emergency lever with his left hand. With the collapse of the lever, several city towers on the block transformed, revealing a secret. These were not city skyscrapers after all, they were giant vaults with facades to look like skyscrapers. Inside, there was a cache of weapons, large as cannon but small enough to be held like rifles in the Titan's grip. Six-Gun leaped into the air, flying to one of the artillery rifles and transformed; he became a component of the weapon, integrating into the gun's barrel machinery. Metroplex wrapped his hand around the handle and removed it from the fake skyscraper. He grabbed another gun from a false building sitting on his left side. Now he was not only a match against the invading monster, but armed as well with his comrade in arms. The Titan lowered the crimson barrels at his foe ahead of him. Trypticon paused his march.

The mechanical dinosaur lowered his shoulder-mounted barrels to target the city guardian. They paused, staring at each other. The eerie moment of silence felt like a muffling of action for everyone fighting. The teams of Autobots and Decepticons turned their attention to witness the clash between their two champions. Leinad held in her breath, stunned by what she saw. When she released that breath, it was like time resumed from its frozen perch, and it returned in an unleashed flurry of artillery fire. The Titan's ammunition pierced windows and concrete and many roads were wrecked.

The violent rattling shook Leinad's ears, making her cover them. She winced to try and blot out the thundering.

Trypticon centered his firepower on Metroplex's crimson guns. He managed to dislodge the weapons from the Titan's grip. They crashed to the floor. Six-Gun, dizzy from the fall, crawled out from under the immense fallen rifle.

Metroplex stooped to search where Six-Gun fell. The small Autobot waved back. "I'm okay! It's up to you now!" At least he had bought some time, at least there were some bullet cases littering the ground.

Metroplex clenched his fists as Trypticon took a couple heavy steps toward him. "You betrayed your own kind, Trypticon." His haunting rumbling voice carried as far as the hills. "The crying of those whose sparks you devoured will now be avenged."

"I thought you would have expired by now, hurnn." Trypticon said. Leinad felt the vibrations of his growls in her chest. "Neither of us should be here, sheh. It will be a pleasure to witness your final struggle… as I tear you apart, gruh."

"You have always hated everyone… Why?"

"It's not enough for me to succeed... Others should fail. Hrah."

Metroplex squeezed his black hands into fists. "You desire you never existed, if you hate yourself so much, then I'll do you the favor and grant your wish."

Trypticon reared up to bark out a dismissal, but instead he blew his crimson destructive beam from his maw. It had been a trick.

The pulse of red light made impact on Metroplex. The giant became obscured by black smoke from the searing of metal.

Arcee was shocked. "Metroplex!"

But the smoke cleared to reveal Metroplex. He was huddled behind his forearms, they had taken the brunt of the blast. His arms had been scorched black. He shot his chest forward and pulled his shoulders back. A volley of fire issued from every cannon on the surface of Metroplex.

The impacted shot battered Trypticon's body. Bright orange explosions erupted up the reptilian hide. Plumes of smoke twisted up around his massive neck and nostrils. Trypticon roared and reared back.

Metroplex didn't waste the opportunity, he charged through the smoke field. Trypticon's vision was blurred from the smoke and the cloud of debris hid Metroplex until the giant was already within swinging distance. He charged through the smoke cloud and appeared in front of Trypticon to the Titan's surprise. Metroplex's black fist came up from below and a colossal uppercut thrust into Trypticon's jaw.

The black titan staggered backwards, nearly toppling. He raised his tail to keep from falling. The monster turned around, facing away from Metroplex.

Metroplex noticed late, the heavy tail swinging his way. The tail whipped Metroplex in the middle, crashing into the titan. The windows and steel girders that held the buildings together in the Decepticon's tail and the Autobot's midsection bent and shattered. Metroplex flung off his feet from the blow and landed five city districts away.

His vision was clouded by broken optic cables, scattering electrical discharges across his optics. His body felt tremendous red damage around his midsection. It was like a submarine had been dropped on his abdomen. The weight of it was monstrous, but he had to lift himself up. He rose to his knees. The Titan heaved. With another lunge of energy, he lifted himself to his feet.

Trypticon fired a volley of missiles at Metroplex while he was still finding his footing. The shells burst against his metal skin, tearing into his hide. Metroplex charged with his fists swinging. He pummeled Trypticon's face with left and right hooks. "This… is… for… every… one… of… my friends!" He finished the assault with a fierce straight arm thrust into Trypticon's belly, which thrust the monster back five paces.

The monster, Trypticon, bounded toward Metroplex with open jaws. The white Autobot shielded himself with his arm. He felt the titanium teeth snap together around his right arm. He felt the jaws tighten on his wrist. Metroplex let out a painful bellow. He felt the steel pillars of his arm snap. He raised his left arm high over his head and brought his fist down onto Trypticon's head. It landed on the orange eye. Shards and twisted metal splintered off Trypticon's steel skull. The monster let out a scream and loosened Metroplex's arm.

Metroplex pushed himself away from his foe, looking down at the ruin of his right arm. He put himself into a defensive stance, not knowing what to expect. Black fluids and oil bled down from his joints and torn body.

Trypticon brought his violet claw to his eyes—what remained of his eye. The right part of his head was bashed in. His one good eye found Metroplex. Trypticon roared in anger. He charged at Metroplex and the Titan stood with palms out to catch the beast.

Trypticon ran forward to trample over Metroplex, yet at the last second, Metroplex jolted out of the way in a deftful sidestep and let Trypticon run past him. All that inertia moved the monster forward like an immense locomotive with a dragging tail. Metroplex seized the tail and pulled with his massive strength. The shocked Trypticon found himself dragged backward while Metroplex swung the gargantuan tail, whirling it around him. Metroplex managed to turn with such force that he lifted Trypticon off his feet and continued spinning. The white and black titan spun until he could no longer grip the giant and let him loose with one last heave.

Trypticon sailed through the air, an entire city launched like a volley ball, soaring high enough to cut through clouds and hurled ten zip codes away. The Titan Trypticon cleaved into the mountain, and he crashed with the force of a meteor. Boulders rained down while pillars of dust rose to blanket the mountain. A pile of rubble slid over Trypticon's battered body.

Metroplex fell onto his back, drained of energy. Trypticon was unresponsive. While the Autobots cheered on Metroplex, hoping he would reawaken, it seemed the Titan had no more oomph to lift himself. No one knew what would happen now.

Rodimus had deserted the Command Tower. He stood with the Autobots on a tower of Autobot City. In the distance he saw Galvatron and his troops mounted on the hill outside the city. They were watching the battle between the two Titans as they were.

"C'mon Metroplex! Get up!" Swerve yelled.

"Awaken Metroplex!" Wreck-Gar shouted.

Within the Trypticon's cranial cavern, a loathsome feeling burned inside Necro's breast. He was aware of Trypticon's collapsed body and the giant's weakened life force which now hummed in slower rhythms. Once more, the claustrophobic feeling emerged, reminding him of the millennia trapped inside the freezing cell of the Titan's body on that remote planet. Never again would he allow himself that sort of burden. His chest burned for victory, and he would wrest it from the dead hands of Metroplex. Necro opened the chambers of his spark to connect his circuits with Trypticon's. He reached within himself for the shells of the sparks that Trypticon consumed. The energy of those Titan Masters had been digested and stored into the small space of Necro's body. And now Necro released that energy so that the spirits of the devoured flowed out of him and into Trypticon's fiber cable veins. The harvested energy flowed like a torrent, and Trypticon's eyes glowed with revitalized fury. His arms dug through the fallen heap of earth until he began to crawl out from under the pile of boulders.

"What's happening, Metroplex?" Arcee asked. "You need to get up. This is no time to nap."

"He's exhausted," Rodimus said. "His energon reserves are used up."

Leinad noticed Trypticon's movement from underneath the rubble. "Then why is _he_ able to get up?"

Bomber's eyes became stark white. "It's that small Titan Master inside his head. It's giving Trypticon its energy."

"We need to do something Rodimus," Arcee said. "If we don't… Metroplex will be destroyed by Trypticon."

Rodimus, Leinad and Arcee watched in horrified silence as Trypticon rose fully on his hind legs. The monster turned around. His face was twisted into a snarl. It was a look of extreme hatred and loathing. He turned to look at the fallen Metroplex and, with newly found resolve, lumbered toward his supine foe.

"What are we going to do?" Arcee gripped Rodimus' shoulder.

Arcee's eyes sought Leinad's. The two nodded in unison. Then she and Leinad attempted to fuse. When Leinad locked in, Arcee's body bolted upright. Her body seized up and she had an electric seizure. Arcee screamed and separated from Leinad. Her body was flung against the wall. Leinad was tossed the other way, transforming back into her small, bot form.

"What happened?" Rodimus said.

Arcee was knocked out, she made no response. He went to check on Leinad. She was crouched, trembling but conscious.

"I don't know," she said. "When we connected, there was a lot of electricity and… it just didn't work."

Rodimus lifted Leinad's small white body. He shook his head, unable to figure out what happened. He set her upright seated in her hover chair near Arcee. "Wreck-Gar, see if you can rouse her."

"Arcee, girl, come on. It's the Nineth inning. The Cubs have got players on second and third and we need a home run to even the score!" He shook her shoulders gently.

Arcee swiveled her head. "Wha—the Cubs?"

"Al'Right! Now let's get you up to bat." Wreck-Gar helped her to her feet.

"I don't kn—Hey! Where's Leinad?"

She had disappeared. She had bolted from her spot. While everyone looked around for her, Grimlock spotted her in her hover chair, zooming as quickly as possible to Metroplex's head.

"Leinad!" Arcee shouted.

Trypticon brought his massive column of a leg high and slammed his foot onto Metroplex's head.

"The years I suffered trapped at the bottom of the sea. The humiliation. The Autobots, the Decepticons… all of them. I hate them. You will pay for everything, shah."

He pounded Metroplex again and again, Stomping it with ruthless abandon.

Arcee and Rodimus covered their mouths in horror.

"Finish it," Galvatron said.

"Once I've finished you… Your friends will be next. First the Autobots… then the Decepticons… but you will be the first…" Trypticon raised the column of his leg. One more stomp would crush Metroplex's head.

"No!" Arcee said.

Trypticon felt his movement arrested which surprised him. Trypticon felt two powerful arms lock around his midsection from behind. The silver arms pulled back with ferocity. It was Omega Supreme… back from the trash heap—badly damaged. He had held out and now was trying to stop Trypticon from finishing Metroplex.

"Omega!" Grimlock shouted.

Trypticon was dragged back. He had had enough of this annoyance. He wrestled free from the grip and spun to stare at his menace. Omega Supreme stood bold and determined, however it was obvious how badly damaged he was. The mighty Autobot had dragged himself from the site of their last battle to help Metroplex. But he appeared so fragile now that a slight rumble looked enough to topple him.

"Not much of you is left, snah. I should have finished you, herah." Trypticon unleashed a rain of gunfire against Omega. The Autobot clutched to shield himself as best he could. With Omega's vision obscured, Trypticon made a following attack and whipped his colossal tail against Omega's middle. The giant was tossed onto his back.

Now both Omega and Metroplex were slumped on the ground. Trypticon reared up. If both of these sentinels fell, it meant the end for Autobot City. And when that fell, the Autobots would have to surrender.

Rodimus spotted Leinad at last. She was hurtling full sprint toward Metroplex. He dashed from the rooftop and transformed. In his truck mode he made a mad dash which took the Autobots by surprise. Leinad was nearly at Metroplex's body when Rodimus caught up to her. Her small floating chair had taken her this far. He dove to reach her and just in time too. Leinad hadn't noticed the Decepticons on the hill. When they had seen Leinad's approach, they swept down the hill in order to capture her. Rodimus held Leinad close.

"Leinad, are you crazy!? You'll get killed!"

"No. I can help. I can give Metroplex my power."

He shook his head, the Decepticons were drawing close.

His wrist communicator buzzed from an incoming signal. He recognized the grim tone as Kup's. "Lad, we're ready to bridge down and help you. We got a whole army of bots locked and loaded."

"Are there enough to take down a 400-story dinosaur?"

"…Probably not…"

Rodimus shook his head with a smirk.

"Lad… the bridge is operational. Should I give the signal to get us down or… not…."

Neither option really mattered now.

"or…."

Or what? What else could be done?

"Or do you want us to bridge you out of there?"

"The bridge is working?" He rose into a half-seated position. "Is it working both ways?"

"Yeah. You need a lift?"

"No… but you just gave me an idea. I'm sending you three sets of coordinates. Wait for my signal."

…Galvatron had Rodimus surrounded. His goons had Rodimus 12 to one. He had Cyclonus, Soundwave… Astrotrain on his left. On his right were Scourge, and about six of Scourge's henchmen. Galvatron raised his orange barrel, centering its crosshairs on Prime's head.

"Ironic isn't it, Hot Rod." Galvatron stood to his full height. "How history tends to repeat itself."

Rodimus felt a warmth in his chest. "Prime…"

"You… have been a thorn in my side ever since I killed Optimus. But now… with your death, the last of his legacy will be extinguished. Always, failing forward, the leader of the Autobots falls right into my hands."

"At last… it will finally be over. When you die, Prime's death will be complete."

"Rodimus…" He heard a small voice coming from his chest. It was Leinad, cradled next to him. Her small white face and blue eyes peaked out from under his arm. "Bond with me."

The Prime held her close. He had no idea what she meant. Did she mean to bond her Titan Master body to his head? What if all the things they said were true? That Titan Masters animate decapitated corpses? What if she paralyzed him just like Arcee? He looked at the grimace of Galvatron who pointed his barrel at his head.

Rodimus's head lurched back, he retracted his head within his body and Leinad climbed onto his shoulders and transformed herself. On her back was Arcee's face. She turned around. Rodimus bolted upright. The Decepticons faltered backward, they were surprised to see Rodimus's body with Arcee's head. The combined form took them by surprise when she raised her hands to protect her body. Galvatron pulled the trigger and blasted her in the middle.

It was the same cannon used to destroy so many other Transformers before. Rodimus would die.

How wretched Galvatron's face became when he saw the cannon fire glance off her body like a brittle stone bouncing off a steel wall. The Autobot Titan Master had a glow surrounding her body. An electric field surrounded her. It was like a dome of magnetic energy and it expanded outward from her body, glancing off the shots fired at her like a protective tortoise shell. She held herself close and pushed the field of energy outward violently. It sent all the Deceptions off their feet. All except Galvatron who staggered backward. The field dissipated.

"Why?!" He raised his orange barrel again. He fired at her.

She slung her gun from her hip and fired. When she did so, a white, electric pulse burst from her barrel and shot toward Galvatron. The two beams of energy collided with each other, and they detonated. Leinad fired again. She shot at Galvatron who protected himself with his arm, and the bolt from her pistol shattered the orange cannon on his arm.

Galvatron's face pulled back from a sneer into a pitiful shock of terror. His gun lay smashed on the ground. Cyclonus stood aghast at his left, freaking out over his lord's damaged arm. The Decepticons' faces twisted into horrified expressions when they saw their leader's arm and its missing orange gun.

Leinad, or whatever it was—this new Autobot which carried Arcee's face and Rodimus's body—turned to each of the fallen Decepticons in turn. They were scrambling to climb to their feet and shoot her. She shot at them until they lay on their backs, too injured to grab their weapons. Galvatron's troops, the ones that could still move, scattered like scared fleas to the wind or ran from the field. Leinad hopped off Rodimus and landed on the ground. Rodimus's head switched back to his own and he leveled his blaster onto Galvatron.

Like a good lieutenant, Cyclonus flung himself before Galvatron to protect him. He fired at Rodimus and disarmed him. The pistol flew smoking out his hand. There was a rage in Cyclonus's eyes and when he spoke it sounded like only half his thought emerged. "—Make us look like a disgrace!"

Rodimus ran forward and punched Cyclonus in the jaw then he grabbed the soldier and flung him onto the dirt where he lay unable to move. Now Rodimus faced Galvatron.

Galvatron reached for his communicator. "Trypticon, finish what you started. Destroy Autobot City."

Rodimus grabbed Galvatron around his midsection. The Decepticon leader landed over-head blows onto Rodimus and Rodimus took them all in the face. He balled his fists and smashed Galvatron's face with two blows. Then he reared up for a third punch.

Galvatron 's face became a mask of hate. "I won't be… defeated!"

The punch ended with a loud clap and Galvatron went soaring backwards. He fell onto his back and fell unconscious. His triple-pronged crown rolled off his head and down the road like a loosened spare tire.

When Rodimus' foot smashed it, Galvatron's henchmen, shrank in shock.

Rodimus reached for his communicator. "Put the Space Bridge's transportation in reverse."

"On my mark… Now!"

A beam of bright light appeared in the sky above the clouds. It spiraled down to the teleportation capsule on the furrow fair. The pillar of energy pulled everything caught in its circumference into space. It teleported bits of wreckage that had been on the ground into some unknown location. It just missed Trypticon.

Rodimus felt his spark sink with defeat.

He felt a swooping sensation and he and Leinad were yanked off their feet into the air. He realized he was being carried by someone and looked up to see the face of Bomber. The Junkion scientist had saved them before Trypticon could crush them.

"Bomber! You can fly?!"

"Need to get you two outta there. We need to escape."

Rodimus shook his head. "No!"

Bomber was shocked.

"Take us there!" Rodimus pointed to Trypticon's head.

This suicidal Autobot… thought Bomber, but he complied. "I kinda knew you were crazy… and this proves my hypothesis." He flew in a circle back to Trypticon and dropped the two Autobots. Leinad and Rodimus flew into Trypticon's open eye and found a chamber inside. Inside, a network of humming wires and steel machinery lined a compact chamber. They spotted a raised apparatus, a console in front of a glowing monitor which was plugged into every other component by a webbed set of cables. They could see the folded component which looked like a purple decepticon, slotted into the console. When they advanced towards it, a part of the wall slid to the side and something inside lashed out to attack them. An industrial arm reached for them. Rodimus dodged under it. He flung toward the console and seized Necro. The arm clamped onto Rodimus and squeezed on him. As soon as he snatched Necro out of the component, the industrial arm ceased mangling Rodimus.

Necro transformed back into his bot form, but struggle as he might, he was unable to wrench from the larger Autobot's grip. Necro's small face revealed a frightened expression when he received a glare from Rodimus. It was this moment when he realized Rodimus was looking around the chamber and making calculations of what Necro had been doing. The jig was up. The role Necro had played was obvious to the Autobot leader who now winced in anger.

The Autobot rested his vision on the broken wall which made a hole in Trypticon's head and a thought came to mind. Rodimus carried the little Titan Master, who thrashed like a turbofish in his arms, and flung him from the gaping hole in Trypticon's eye where he fell screaming thousands of feet below.

After that, Rodimus breathed a sigh of relief. But it was a little too soon with a grim realization that Trypticon's movement persisted. The rumbling footsteps continued to move toward Metroplex. And now he had completely run out of ideas of how to stop the colossus.

"It didn't work," Rodimus said to Leinad. "We can't stop Trypticon." He picked her up into his arms.

Leinad looked at the open slot where Necro had been connected to the giant Decepticon. The neural link was still open. She looked at Rodimus. "Maybe you can't… but I can."

"What are you saying?"

"I can stop Trypticon."

He saw the neural connector and his face grew grim. "No. Leinad. You can't. This is my responsibility."

"Rodimus… you have your duty… and I…" She spared no more time. She leaped into the air and folded into her compressed state and fit herself into the neural slot.

There was a sudden jolt. Rodimus's eyes flashed with fear. The cranium chamber shook.

"Leinad!" Rodimus lunged at the neural link. He grabbed Leinad's compacted body. Then he pried to remove her from Trypticon's brain.

Trypticon roared. A bunch of electric bolts erupted across his body. The roar echoed, it was the sound of a creature in mortal pain. Trypticon grabbed at his head with his arms.

Rodimus pulled. Then he felt a tug on his own right shoulder. A strong tug yanked him from the console. He was turned about and he found himself in the grip of the industrial arm. The mechanical arm had moved itself from the cranium chamber wall and it yanked him up like a rag doll.

"Leinad!"

The arm twisted Rodimus around, he struggled to free himself. Then he felt himself hurled. He was thrown out of the open cavity in Trypticon's head and flung thousands of feet in the air. Rodimus crashed onto the city street below. The fall broke his back onto the pavement.

Trypticon continued bellowing in pain.

The roars from Trypticon roused Metroplex, who in a bolt of shock, clamored to his feet. He realized Trypticon's behavior had become erratic. He moved with jerking movements as though he had lost control of his body. Then the Autobot Titan saw the open bridge portal behind the dinosaur. He pried open the doors to his chest and extended the cannon hidden in his solar plexus. He fired a huge beam of light at the beast and sent the monster flying.

Trypticon disappeared into the light of the Space Bridge, and immediately the monster's roars died away in a faint echo. The space bridge collapsed and the monster was nowhere to be found.

Those on the ground stared at the sky where the clouds had been spread in the shape of a whirlpool, circling a tunnel of light that was no longer there.

The Decepticons gazed with horror, unable to deal with their monster having disappeared. Metroplex leered down at them and bellowed. "Get… _out_… of… here!" He fired the guns on his shoulders upon fleeing Decepticon troops and some caught fire as they launched themselves into the air to escape his wrath. And soon the battlefield held very few Decepticons left, vacant except for those too injured to move or dead.

From the bottom of the hill, he heard her familiar footsteps. She was running up the hill. When he turned around, Rodimus saw the cool blue eyes and that white feminine face. She held an open hand to him in a pleading manner and her other one was at her hip, balled to a fist, and knew immediately what she would ask for. A huge heaviness descended onto his chest.

"Leinad…" Arcee said.

He shook his head and diverted his eyes to the ground.

She squeezed her hand closed. And the sigh that she expelled was too painful to hear.


	22. Chapter 22

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The Autobots slowly picked themselves up, clearing debris and searching for trapped comrades underneath the rubble. Omega and Metroplex received immediate medical aid, using helicopter Transformers and the fire truck Transformers' ladders, while the Titan Master Nebulons in Autbot City were counted and cared for. All of the Autobot injuries were vast and it would take months to get everyone fully online. For those who had fallen in the course of duty, such as Blades and Streetwise, and the Titan Masters who had perished, a memorial service was held. Rodimus did his best to pay respects to his comrades the way a Cybertronian would, as it seemed an Earthling funeral would not be appropriate. The Nebulons performed their ritual and then those from Cybertron made theirs. These were followed by meetings with the humans who had lost so much. Their city was gone and it would take years to rebuild everything.

That night, alone on the hillside, Cerebros skygazed, looking through his telescope. He heard footsteps approach his hill from below and had an idea of who it would be.

Cerebros turned to see Rodimus climbing the hill, and as he drew closer, Cerebros saw a wistful look in his eyes.

"Leinad…"

Cerebros nodded.

"She's out there somewhere." He craned his neck skyward. "I told Arcee we'd find her. No matter if we have to journey to furthest corner of the universe to find her."

Cerebros looked at the floor. "We have no idea where to look. We don't know how far the Bridge sent her."

"That's why… I'm counting on you. We can find her together."

"Hmm. Perhaps… there's a way. But right now… There's an urgent matter we have to look into."

"That's right. The Titan Masters must all be liberated."

Cerebros nodded. "The planet Nebulos needs to be a safe place for the Nebulons to return to… one day. I'd hate for them to get caught up in our foolish war with the Decepticons."

Rodimus smiled. "You've always had a gentle spark. I don't know how you can keep your head cool for so long."

"It takes practice."

"And compassion." Rodimus rubbed his own back.

Cerebros noticed. "Did they manage to patch you back up? You took a nasty fall, right?"

"Not as good as Ratchet, but First Aid came through." Rodimus smirked. "I'm not quite as spry as I used to be."

"You're getting to the age when you trade that for wisdom… I hope."

"Me too." He took a look through Cerebros's telescope. The universe was immense. So much of it was empty, and void of life, of emotion, of any those thrills that made life worth living. Only a handful of planets had friends upon them. It was those friends on distant worlds that made the galaxy seem not so large. Of the many glittering points of light, Rodimus knew Leinad was bound to be on one of them.

Several weeks later, a special broadcast was scheduled, one that both the denizens of Trycounty City and the Autobots were asked to listen to. An announcement invited the humans of Trycounty City to turn their channels to listen to the broadcast. The Autobots set up chairs and cameras at Autobot City as well as a steel stage with an immense podium. On the day, Grimlock, Arcee, Ultra Magnus, Blaster and many others were seated outside in the crowd until a familiar red and orange Autobot stepped up to the podium.

Rodimus turned to address the crowd gathered at Autobot city. He cleared his throat and adjusted his microphone before he spoke. "We have made it through some of the darkest times in Autobot history. We have lost friends who meant so much to us. And we have lost leadership when we needed it the most."

There were many humans who had tuned in. At the hospitals, the nursing staff flipped the channels to search for Rodimus's announcement. Those watching at an open bar held their drinks in their hands and leaned in to listen to the television screen. Repairs were underway at the ship yards, at the residential zones and at the water treatment plants. The humans set their tools aside, popped open their lunchboxes and listened to their radios.

From their construction crew forklifts, Autobots on Cybertron paused to listen to the Prime's speech. Those listening noticed that the familiar voice of the Autobot leader had lost some of its youthful zest. A gruffer tone emerged more similar to Kup than Hot Rod.

"I wanted to address every Cybertronian as well as our human companions. What I wanted to say was…" He spotted Ultra Magnus in the crowd with his arms crossed, and Rodimus fixed his stance. Did he sound too officious? Then he spotted Arcee and relaxed a bit. "I am sorry… for failing you. I thought my role meant I had to step up and become what Optimus Prime was… and that became my mistake. In trying to do so, I was blind to my limitations, to my abilities and to my strengths. In the same way, I misjudged the same qualities in my friends and all Autobots. My misunderstanding was this…

"No one can ever take Prime's place. I see that now. And while I do think we can aspire to become like him, it's more important to build on his legacy. Prime often said, 'Til all are one.' These words are as famous as he is, but until now… I didn't quite understand what they meant. I think what they mean is this…

"Until all are _one_… Until all of us, the Autobots, are working together as _one_, we will be scattered and vulnerable. This last battle taught me that we all have roles and we are all working together, and when we do so… we can overcome anything… even the largest, most dangerous… most darkest threats that the Decepticons or any other force throws at us. This is what it means for us to be one. Prime understood this. He knew we were not united. But I think he saw that in us. I think he knew that inside all of us is a desire to be united under one cause. To work together to fulfill the same dream. To build a future where all the Transformers can live peacefully together."

There were nods in the crowd from Grimlock, from Magnus… from Kup.

"I'm not going to pretend to fill in Prime's shoes anymore. Optimus left a shadow that is too long to cover." He smiled in saying this. "Rather, I would like to assign future roles so that …

"So that… I don't have to feel like I need copies of myself to do everything…"

There were a couple laughs. Swerve and Scamper were seated at the sides of the crowd hoping it would be a short speech. Working under the Prime had been nerve-racking and they were eager to get return to their stations to get away from Rodimus.

"The days of one Autobot leading all Autobots are over. As we march forward, I will share leadership with Autobots who have bravely shown they're needed to Autobots in need.

"I want the Autobots to look onwards, to explore new places for us to live and those places will need commanders to take charge.

"Perhaps this will fulfill Optimus's dream when he said, 'Til all are one.' "

Rodimus closed his datapad and gave a slight nod to the crowd.

The crowd didn't quite know whether to clap or cheer or to sit solemnly. There were awkward glances passed between those in the seats, with questioningly looks and mutterings to accompany them.

He lifted his chin to look at the darkening sky. "And… if you're out there, Leinad. I'm sorry." There were a couple shooting stars passing through, but otherwise, the shadows felt a little longer and the wind felt a little colder.

Magnus rubbed his chin in thought. Cerebros, seated in the crowd felt a chill while listening. While he pondered the meaning Rodimus put forth, he felt the inclination to turn his gaze upward and saw that some of the stars had appeared in the purple twilight. He turned on his wrist communicator. He had received another message. It had come from space—from a fortress.

Rodimus stepped down from the podium to the stage side exit. He had to attend another meeting soon. Rebuilding the human city would take a lot of muscle and time and Autobot power. The ties between humans and Cybertronians had been gravely tested. And he would need to repair those ties. Perhaps he could recruit some smaller, more human-friendly Cybertronians to aid them…

The meeting would start soon, but Rodimus had other plans in mind. He ran down the back of the stage. That's where he was surprised when he ran into Arcee. She knew he would plan his escape from the questioning crowd this way. It wasn't a call to action this time. Arcee had come to say goodbye to Rodimus. As he stood under the glow of a yellow streetlamp, his gleaming red body now revealed more tarnish if one looked closer. Arcee stood outside the streetlamp in the shadows. At her side stood Springer, his arm rested on her shoulder.

Rodimus gave them a nod as a farewell.

Rodimus rolled down the blue valley, he had the sea of grass on his left with the picturesque mountains ahead. As he rolled past Lookout Mountain, he turned up the FM and listened to synthesized medley. A racoon family skittered under the evergreens as he revved by, and when he reached the peak, the Sun started its descent over the amber ridges. The final rays glistened off Rodimus' hood. How he had missed Earth.

The spool of the cleaning rod slid easily into the gun barrel. Don't know why I never did this sort of thing before, thought Fangry. His partners, Squeezeplay and Horri-Bull passed more cleaning brushes around to the team. In one corner of the rooftop, a pile of repaired, refined and cleaned rifles lay gleaming.

Fangry stared at the team. The six had finished the task in a short amount of time. There were no arguments this time. Perhaps, they would survive after all.

Lokos read the data logs to himself from Slugfests' display. They hadn't appeared on any bounties yet. He imagined his own head would be worth a lot. They had some time, but sadly they would need to be on the move very soon. Six deserter Decepticons would be easy to track down. For the moment, they could take a breather. He looked up at the screen and tuned in his audio receiver to pick up the Earth frequency. The drive-in theater was playing. It was an old flick, black and white, Akira Kurosawa, about samurai defending a small village. The owner of the concessions building either hadn't noticed the noises coming from the roof, or didn't care.

Brisko mapped routes on his display screen, taking pauses to flick his pen around. Fangry smirked at him while he finished cleaning the pistol. It was minor gesture, like a quick salute, but it meant something between Brisko and Fangry had changed for the better. For the first time, his optic didn't twitch like it used to.

"What are we gonna do now?" Kreb asked Horri-Bull.

He grumbled. "Let's just watch the mo-vie."

Kreb slicked the back of his head. "You're actually paying attention? When did this turn into a date? Horri-Bull, I didn't take you for a romantic."

"Sec-ond one's a-bout to start. I've ne-ver seen Ta-xi Dri-ver." Horri-Bull extended his arm and looked into the chambers of the swabbed pistol.

"Eh… No… No. No. We'll watch something else. You wouldn't like that one, no substance. Know what? The third screen's got a better flick. Jack Nicholson. That's who you're thinking of."

Horri-Bull nodded. He twirled the pistol and slid it into his holster, making a wonderful snap as the metal of the gun locked in. "The guy from 'The Shining.' "

"I think you'll like this one better. It's called Anger Management."

Squeezeplay lifted his gaze. Earth had more places to hide, more trees, more mountains and caves. It was better than a desert planet. At least here they could swipe some energon from the Autobots rather than waiting with a pleading hand for the Decepticons to send a shipment to them. Things might turn out a little different now. He turned to look at his team-mates who were arguing over the actors onscreen. Maybe. Just maybe… they'd survive after all.


End file.
